


breathe easy

by flagrantlywicked



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Camren - Freeform, Drama, F/F, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 128,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flagrantlywicked/pseuds/flagrantlywicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Breathe easy, darling. Just breathe. Things will come around."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. meeting the one (the perfect roommate)

The gang and I were all seated at a table by the window in a coffeehouse just outside of downtown Miami. It was my turn to pick the hangout spot, and being the simple person I am I picked a small, congested coffeehouse for us to come together and laugh like old times. My love for coffee may have also had something to do with my decision as well. I liked the smell, and the warmth of a freshly brewed cup of coffee in my hands. I liked how the aroma of coffee beans never seemed to leave the clothes on my back even several hours after departing the place; it just lingered – in my hair, on my breath. Most of all, I liked how the caffeine made Dinah crazy – no, crazier.

She was the life of the party of course, so I could always count on her to cheer me up after a bad day, or whenever I was in one of those grumpy moods for no reason like today. I don’t know what I’d do without her, or Normani, or Ally. We lived in the same city, but we’d been drifting further and further apart for a while now ever since the end of college. Not too long ago we were out on the town every night, always with each other, practically inseparable. Especially Dinah and I – we’re still thick as thieves, though – but now, Normani and Ally are doing what they like to call settling down, focusing on their occupations and other important aspects of their lives.

Those two were usually left out of our shenanigans as of late, mainly because Ally had a kid about two years ago, so she had no choice but to mature. Normani, on the other hand, went all adult on us after she hit 23 and became a middle school History teacher. How boring is that?

I was sitting among them as they carried on their own conversations. Every now and then Dinah would glance at me out the corner of her eye, or shoot me a long speculative gaze and tap my foot under the table with hers. I think she was trying to get me to speak and not sit there looking like a “standoffish, emo loser”. Just for her sake, I would crack a wan smile to let her know I was fine, then keep quiet and continue drinking my coffee until something was said to me; something worth talking about.

Somehow this whole get together was more appealing if I sat and listened and chuckled halfheartedly at what they said instead of speaking myself. Although I had what I thought to be the best job out of all my friends, their lives seemed more interesting than mine. Seemed like they were very genuinely happy; like they had it all together – I envied that. My life was okay. I made enough money as a photographer, my apartment wasn’t a piece of shit, nor was my car. I’d been able to control my emotions a lot better lately… A lot of things were okay in my life, but something had been missing for a while now. That sounds cliche. I feel like a lot of unhappy people say that, but it was the truth. There was this big void in my life.

“So, Dinah tells me that you’re looking for someone to move in with you?” Ally said, looking from me to Dinah. “Are the thirty cats that you have not enough company, Lo?”

Dinah snickered uncontrollably while taking a sip of her iced coffee and nearly spit right in my face. I wouldn’t have been surprised. I can’t tell you how many times that’s happened in the past. I emitted a terse chuckle that was dry of any emotion and tossed a napkin at Dinah whom was seated across from me.

“You’ve got jokes, huh?” I said, wearing a wolfish grin.

“You have cats, Lauren? Since when?” Normani chimed in, completely oblivious to the joke.

I bowed my head a little and whirled a small straw around in my cup of coffee – then suddenly cut my eye over in her direction in a way that said, "are you dumb?".

“I don’t own any fucking cats.”

“I’ve told her a thousand times to get a cat. Why not? They’re friendly? And she has to start the collection sometime, right?” Dinah jested.

“Go to hell.”

Ally and Dinah erupted with laughter, Mani joining in a little late. This was usually how we got our entertainment; by ridiculing each other with jokes, sarcasm and a whole lot of sass. It could be anything from crude and immoral to just downright rude – as long as none of us took it to the heart, it was alright. They were always referring to me as an old cat lady. After all, I did live alone, and might I add that I hadn’t been in a relationship in almost seven months. For someone like me, seven months is a long time.

“You guys, I think we might have it all wrong, though. The ad she put out is about seeking a roommate, but I think we all know what Lo is really seeking.”

“New friends,” I said jokingly under my breath.

They were all silent, eyes fixed on me. I didn’t like it. My gaze shifted upwards and landed on Dinah to see her winking and doing some idiotic wiggling thing with her eyebrows. She just had to bring all eyes on me. Usually I favored attention, but today I wasn’t quite up for it. Today, I wanted to crawl back into bed, curl up in a ball and be to myself.

Though I was trying to remain unfazed and come off as sullen, a smirk appeared at the corner of my mouth. It was inevitable. I wagged my head idly to deny whatever it was they were thinking.

Normani was getting a kick out of this. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she simply said, “Sounds plausible.”

“Well, it’s not true. Dinah is just trying to make me look like a freak – as always. I don’t put ads on the internet looking for sex. I’m not that desperate. She just wants everyone to know what a total sex fiend her secret lover is.”

Dinah gasped. “Secret lover? In your dreams, Jauregui.”

I leaned forward and gave her arm a shove. She immediately dove over the tabletop to get retaliation, almost knocking the entire table over in the process. I hastily scooted back, dodging her just in the nick of time, and laughed as she fought the air trying to reach me. By now we had caught the attention of many others in the coffee shop, which made the situation even the more amusing.

Ally didn’t have much of a reaction – she kinda froze. She just slid her chair back and gave everyone around a look that said, “I don’t know these people”. I swear she often found herself having to do that when out in public with us.

“That could work, you know? You two. I feel like it could, if you weren’t with Siope and everything.” Normani was still clearly amused. She squinted her eyes as if reflecting on something, and then all of the sudden she jumped in her seat. “Didn’t you guys have a thing in college or something like that?”

“Oh, god. No – ”

“We did,” I interjected, my grin deepening as I caught Dinah’s enraged gaze.

“We made out once. And for your information, I was heavily intoxicated!” Dinah exclaimed, mortified. “Who doesn’t make out with their friend in college?”

Ally made a quick remark, stating that she’d never done such a thing. Such a fucking prude, I thought. Meanwhile, Normani was awfully quiet all so suddenly, looking down at her lap like she was guilty of something. I just smirked at her, teasingly nudging her with my elbow.

“And I was high, so my judgment was slightly impaired. But in all honesty, I knew whose ass I was grabbing, and I was in total control.” I merely shrugged and took a swig of my coffee.

Dinah started chuckling uneasily as she sat down, her lips curving in amusement. “I avoided and did not talk to her for like, a week because I was so embarrassed.”

I shook my head at the memory and halfheartedly said, “And to make her feel better, I lied to her and said I wouldn’t tell anyone, when I’d already told like, everyone. It was kinda awkward after it happened, but it was the best ten minutes of my life in that bathroom, babe.”

“Aww. You’re so precious, Lauren. Do you really mean that?” Dinah had her hand placed over her heart, and she was beaming.

“From the bottom of my heart.” Sarcasm oozed from every word so profusely.

In all honesty, the memory was very distant, but still reachable in a way. Like if I thought hard enough I could still remember the way her lips felt against mine, and it wasn’t even bad at all. For my own sake though, I liked to force myself to think that Dinah was a terrible kisser whose mouth was profusely wet with saliva at the time of the make out session. She wasn’t and her mouth wasn’t, but remembering it that way repulsed me. And repulsion was exactly what I was aiming for of course.

“You two should date,” Ally singsonged.

“She’s clearly being sarcastic, and it’s okay because I have a boyfriend anyways. So screw you, Lauren.”

Her palm came in contact with my face, and she obnoxiously rubbed it in. Oh, god. Not this again. I recoiled, giggling hysterically, slapping, biting and licking at her hand so she’d screw off. Eventually she became grossed out by the amount of my spit that was now on her and stopped harassing me. That worked every time.

“You have such man hands, Dinah,” I insulted, wiping my face with a napkin. I always hated when she assailed me with what she liked to call the “smothering face-palm”.

“Lauren, I will shove my foot so far up your ass – ”

I moaned with a sudden, inappropriate loudness that caught everyone off guard, causing Dinah to pause mid-sentence. “Go ahead, I might like it.”

She recoiled in disbelief, raising an intimidating perfectly arched eyebrow at me. Of all things, she appeared offended, yet at the same time she was wearing that familiar “I know you did not just say that so I’m giving you a few seconds to rephrase that and check yourself before you wreck yourself” expression.

“Ya’ll are immature as hell,” Normani commented, rolling her eyes.

“Tell me about it, soo immature. And by the way, I think you guys should know that Dinah is right. The secret is out. I am seeking more than just a roommate. I’m seeking some sexual favors and not too long ago, Dinah herself was my first customer. She does nothing for under $20.”

Ally stifled laughter, covering her mouth and turning her head slightly.

“That’s very funny of you. You make fun and talk all that bullshit, but at least I’ve gotten laid in the past seven months.”

Normani’s mouth fell agape. “I feel like such an outsider when it comes to what’s going on in the life of Lauren,” she muttered, appearing shocked but fairly amused.

Oh, man. Dinah always knew how to burn someone good, and boy had I just been burnt to ashes.

I nonchalantly sat back in my seat, gave a few confident nods and said, “That’s right. I have not invaded a vagina, nor have I had my vagina invaded in seven months. Laugh a-fucking-way.”

Dinah’s eyes narrowed as a look of discomfort came over her expression. “Nice way of putting it.”

“But you’re not serious, are you?” Ally asked with a sense of incredulity.

To me it was flattering that she thought it was a joke. It was flattering that she may have thought I was still the old Lauren Jauregui who slept with every girl I came in contact with. But I’d changed, I think, and as of late I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Now that it had been brought up once again, it really was something to think about.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” I answered finally. I gave a bashful tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “It’s not as big of a deal as you think. I haven’t been with anyone since I broke up with Lacey, and being with her kind of made me realize… – ”

“That it’s not okay for your main goal in life to be, and I quote, “sleep with every single hot girl in the world who is willing”?” said Normani.

I started laughing hysterically. “I did used to say that, didn’t I – hey, don’t look at me like that, Ally. I honestly don’t think that way anymore, I swear. But yes, our breakup also made me think about how I treat others, and helped me realize that I’m not the only one in the world with feelings. Seeing that I hurt her makes me not want to do anyone else that way, you know?”

Dinah was smiling like a proud mother. I’d told her this a long time ago, and when I did I said that telling the other girls would bruise my ego. Now that the day was here, I didn’t feel much embarrassment, or hesitation at all. Despite the fact that I was itching to find a way to get back at her for telling my business, I matched her smile.

Right now, for this moment, she was still a big bitch though.

“Lauren,” Ally called solemnly.

I was chewing my lip agitatedly. My left eyebrow hitched at the sound of her voice. “Yes?”

“You’re finally starting to grow up. You’re a little late, but I’m happy for you.”

“Now I’m just dying for you to meet someone serious and, like, get married,” Normani added.

My eyes widened.

“And have children! Oh my god.”

An odd feeling pooled in the pit of my stomach at the sound of that, and I sat up so fast that my chair almost fell over beneath me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa – ”

“She hasn’t had sex, nor has she been with anyone in seven months and you guys are talking about her having children?” Dinah reminded.

We all laughed for a bit, and then there was silence.

“No, but really you guys. Forget all of this trivial shit. I am looking for a roommate. I’m lonely at the apartment – like depressingly lonely, and I think it’d be easier on me if someone could help with the rent. On top of that, I’ve got plenty of space in there for someone else, so I think it could be good for me.”

Normani nodded in agreement. “It could be. As long as you don’t let some modern day Norman Bates into your apartment.”

“Are you trying to scare me shitless?” I squawked. “And for your information, I explained in the ad that I’d only feel comfortable with a female roommate.”

“Uh, girls are crazy, too. Like your last girlfriend for example. You of all people should know that. I’m just sayin’.”

She was right. You could always count on Normani to be real with you, that’s for sure.

Ally sighed and asked, “Have you had any luck with finding anyone yet?”

“Not yet. Everyone I’ve met with so far is weird and gross, or I just hate them at first sight.”

“That’s typical for you.”

I huffed out an exasperated rush of breath, quickly nodding in agreement.

Dinah groaned aloud and hit the table with her fist to get my attention. “I told you that girl who works at the library downtown is interested. Her and I went to high school together and we’re still something like friends. She’s not a psychotic bitch, I can assure you that.”

“You’re talking about Camille?”

Dinah nodded. “Camila.”

“Yeah, whatever. She called me last night and we’re actually meeting here later on this afternoon,” I responded.

“Good. You should really consider her, because I already told her that that apartment is her new home.”

“Why the hell would you do that, Dinah? What if I don’t like her?”

“You’ll like her, I promise. She’s not the type of person you can just hate. Even if you don’t like her, you’ll like her.”

“Whatever. You better hope I do.” I reflected for a few moments. “You know, I dated a Camille for a week once. Didn’t go too well.”

“The girl whose hair you said always smelled like garlic bread?” Normani asked casually.

I glanced her way, a conflicted grimace easing over my expression. “Yes, her. She was really sweet, man, but I don’t like garlic bread. I still don’t know why it smelled that way. I kinda miss her…”

Dinah sighed in annoyance, chipping her fingernail polish to pass the time. “You can’t be serious,” she whispered.

“Aw, you guys,” Ally called, bringing her phone up to her face. “Troy just texted me and said that he thinks Tate is coming down with a cold, so I’ve gotta go.”

The rest of the girls were “awwing” in sorrow and going on about how they hoped Tate was alright. All I could think to say was something smart about her little mommy issues that she had to deal with now, or something relating to the fact that she was pushing thirty.

“Alright then. Goodbye, mom. Have a nice afternoon!” I beamed and gave her a single wave.

“You’re funny, Lauren! It’ll be you soon, you just wait,” Ally countered, smiling on her way out of the door.

The girls and I all exchanged looks. I flinched in confusion before flipping her off. Ally was out of sight by the time I put up the finger, so it seemed pointless. It did get a laugh out of Dinah and Normani though.

“Was she talking about kids when she said it’s going to be me soon?”

“I suppose,” Normani said with her mouthful.

My eyes suddenly averted to the cookie on a napkin in front of her. I pulled a piece off and quickly ate it before she could protest. While Normani was distracted, scowling at me, Dinah reached for the sugar cookie and scarfed down a piece as well.

Her eyes lit up abruptly. She started laughing and pointed a finger at me. “Tag team!” Dinah hollered, holding up her hand for a high five.

I delightedly reached across the table to high five her. Normani shot us both an icy glare, her upper lip curling in disgust.

“But anyways,” I started, but then paused once I noticed Normani was still giving me a dirty look. “…Ally is absolutely fucking stupid. I’m never having kids. At one point in time I wanted to adopt, but nah. Never.”

“Never?” Dinah squeaked.

“Never. Not any time soon of course. Those things are crazy.” A long silence enveloped us, and all you could hear was the conversations of others and the sound of soft instrumental music playing in the background throughout the place.

“So guys, I’m getting really drunk tonight, or high; maybe both – I haven’t decided yet. Either way I’m getting trashed. Who wants to join me?” I asked with a mischievous smirk on my face, doing a little weird dance in my seat.

“I have church tomorrow, and then work the next day,” Normani answered.

“I figured, but Dinah? What about you? C’mon, you have no responsibility!”

Dinah stared down at the table in reflection, pulling a wry grin. “I don’t know, Lo. I don’t have any plans, but I think Siope wants to go out tonight. I might have the nights wrong, I’m not sure. I don’t listen to much of anything he says, but hey I’ll call you and let you know if I can come over.”

A big grin inevitably spread across my dull expression. “Sweet.”

The time on my phone read 2:03, so I figured it was time for me to dash. There was a wedding on the other side of the city on the beach at 3:00 I had to get to. Fortunately for me, I’d been hired to photograph the entire ceremony. Weddings were my least favorite events to do, but money was money, and I sure as hell wanted every bit I could get.

I gathered my things together and stood to my feet, swinging my backpack over my shoulder.

“You’re leaving us?” Normani asked.

“I have to go take pictures at this wedding on the beach.”

“And then you’ve got to come right back here again to meet up with Camila and discuss the roommate ad thing,” Dinah stated. “Are you going to remember that?”

Waving my iPhone in her face, I said, “Yep. It’s all in here.” I began to amble backward with my gaze still steadfast on them. Then I stopped in my tracks and thought about Camila, a bunch of questions popping in my head concerning her all of the sudden.

“Hey, what does this girl look like? Is she attractive?”

Dinah stared at me, seemingly hesitating her reply. Her eyebrows lifted and she gave my question a bit of thought. How much thought could it take? The longer it took for her to answer my question, the more I got the idea that she was up to something.

“She’s like, average,” said Dinah, reflectively narrowing her eyes. “She’s a five, maybe.”

Normani grimaced.

I gave Dinah a dubious look, chewing the edge of my lip. “Wait, didn’t you say she works at a library? Of course she’s not attractive. I’ve never met an attractive librarian in my life.”

Dinah laughed with me, nodding in agreement.

Normani got up to wrap her arms around me. She held me close for quite some time. I just closed my eyes tight and chuckled, indulging in the warmth and comfort of a strong embrace. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been hugged. As I walked out the door, I said goodbye to Normani and waved to Dinah. Mani and I probably wouldn’t see each other for a while because she was always so busy, but Dinah would be in my face sometime soon again this upcoming week – possibly even tonight. I didn’t mind, though.

Though she was obnoxious and always overly animated, the girl was my best friend. And her humor was the one thing that got me by on a daily basis. There was never a day or two that went by where Dinah didn’t call to check and see how I was holding up. A few months ago she was going to move into the apartment with me to keep me company and help pay rent, but Siope asked her to move in with him. Needless to say, Dinah could never turn down Siope.

As I climbed into my jeep and placed my backpack in the passenger seat, I thought about Camila.

How the hell have I never met or heard of her if Dinah knows her?

I remembered her voice from the phone call the other night and played it in my head over and over again. I wondered what she looked like, attempting to match a face to the voice. Camila didn’t sound like a five. In fact, her voice was very appealing from what I recall. She had made an attempt to sound professional, but I could easily tell from the scratch in her voice and the way it dragged that she was tired. It made me feel weird as we talked about the ad. Weird as in uncomfortable with myself for feeling attracted to someone’s voice.

I was always feeling odd things that made me uncomfortable with myself. Nothing new. And I was going to try and refrain from thinking about Camila, or her strangely appealing voice, or what she could possibly look like throughout the ride. I didn’t want to appear all uncomfortable and come off as weird whenever I met her in a couple of hours. So I turned the radio up, put the drop top down and sat back leisurely with one hand on the wheel.

The air hit my face hard, but it was calming. My long, brown locks flowed wildly in the wind. For some reason that always made me feel happy, or liberated, I guess you could say.

You have nothing to worry about. Nothing to be nervous about. She’s a mere five, remember? And it’s not like it’s a date. She could possibly be your new roommate for crying out loud.

-

Ruby, my jeep, and I were barreling down the highway like a bat out of hell. Yes, I named my jeep Ruby, but that’s not very relevant right now. I was hemmed up at the wedding reception by some rich, condescending asshole who wouldn’t stop hitting on me until I finally lost patience and said to him, “I haven’t touched a guy since high school and I’m wearing a flannel; do the math”. Then I had to apologize, and act like I actually cared for his feelings before I could leave. That took another fifteen minutes, and after saying goodbye to the bride and groom I was finally able to bail without feeling guilty.

I was supposed to be meeting Camila at the coffee shop at 5:15. It was now pushing 5:30 and I was fighting urges to run multiple red lights. She didn’t answer her phone the first time I called, nor did she answer the second time. I wouldn’t call myself reliable, but I never liked to be late. Perhaps a new trait of reliability was growing on me since my photography business was finally beginning to bloom and all.

My phone began to vibrate and I slowed the car down while scanning over the screen. It was her. I had initially put her name under the contact of “roommate ad girl” because I had briefly forgotten whether her name was Camila or Camille or Camilla, and frankly at the time I didn’t care. After clearing my throat and taking a deep breath, I answered the phone.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Um, hi. It’s Camila. I called you about the ad the other night. This is Lauren, right?” she asked, adding slight laughter to her voice to rid the awkwardness.

“Yeah, this is Lauren speaking. Are you at the coffeehouse yet? I’m running late, I apologize, but I am almost there.”

“I’m waiting outside. I noticed that you called twice and I didn’t answer because my phone was on silent.” Camila paused, chuckling. “I always do that. Silly me.”

“That’s okay,” I assured, veering sharply into the parking lot just outside the place. A few cars honked at me and some bystanders shouted indignantly in disapproval. In a state of agitation, I flashed them all an obscene gesture with my good friend the middle finger and sped off. “I just pulled – ”

Camila gasped. “Oh my god…”

“What is it?”

“Some moron just pulled into the parking lot like a madman right down the street, almost ran these people over and barely dodged another car.”

I had to cup a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t burst out laughing. “That sounds crazy! I swear people just don’t know how to drive nowadays,” I fretted in a wholehearted manner.

“I know right? But you were saying something before I interrupted you. I’m sorry.”

Oh god. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

“Nope? I wasn’t saying anything. I’m parking my car right now.” That was a lie. I’d already parked my car, so I was just sitting there. I waited a few seconds before continuing. “I’m getting out right now…walking…” That was true.

Camila began to giggle, and it was then that I realized I was stating unnecessary facts like I always did when I was in an awkward or unnerving situation. The laughter was faint. It sounded like she was trying to muffle it with her hand or something so I wouldn’t hear.

I laughed to play it off but was mentally cursing myself out for sounding so stupid. On her end it was like a giggle fest; she found it so amusing for some reason, and it wasn’t that awkward laugh of discomfort I usually got from others whenever I did or said something fucking ridiculous.

For some ungodly reason she was genuinely amused.

“Well, I’m just standing here. Now I’m shuffling in place, looking up at the sky…” she informed.

Clearly her way of mocking me.

“I’m coming around the corner.” I looked around the area, searching for a girl on her phone. There were a few others with phones up to their ear, but only one was smiling like an idiot up at the sky. “I um – think I see you… I’m not sure.” I froze in place, watching her brown curls sway as she turned from side to side.

“Which way are you coming from?”

“Are you the curly sue turning in full 360 circles? Wait, wait. Stop spinning. Turn to your right.”

She turned to her right and I waved. Camila tilted her head to the side a little, taking a moment to study me with a warm smile. As I got closer the more I realized that Dinah Jane was a filthy fucking liar.

I hung up the phone and shoved it into my pocket. Camila stood there in an awkward manner with her hands linked together in front of her right below her waist. She wore these spiffy looking glasses that looked like something your typical hipster would be carrying around. While they looked ridiculously stupid on most people to me, they made her look like some nerdy, hot school teacher whose class I desperately wanted to attend.

Her white, ripped skinny jeans were tight – like so tight that they adorned every single curve, and the sleeves of her crewneck were rolled up. It only took me about six and a half seconds to note all of this. Years of practice had certainly paid off. She probably wouldn’t have noticed I was checking her out if I had blatantly gawked at her chest. She looked so innocent and naïve, so I knew for sure she had no clue.

For a few moments we just stood there in silence exchanging smiles.

“Hey, how are you?”

Camila’s smile grew wider. “I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

“Good, good. I’m doing great. I apologize again for running late. I was taking photos for a wedding down on the beach and it was kinda crazy,” I explained.

“You just came from the beach? That would explain why I smelled sea breeze whenever you approached me. I thought it was just some weird thing with my nose,” she giggled and gave her head a shake.

I laughed, too dorkishly for my liking. “No, I just smell like the ocean.”

“And you’re a photographer, that’s right. That’s what Dinah told me when I thought your name sounded familiar, and then I remembered that you did my cousin’s quinceanera recently.”

“Yeah, I do a lot of those.”

“You took great pictures by the way. I mean, they were amazing.”

I smiled lightly, giving a knowing nod. “Thank you. I’m flattered. I do try my best.”

Camila displayed one of those cute wry smiles where she tilted her head to the side a bit and her gaze lit up like a Christmas tree. Her eyes were a light, chocolatey brown and it was difficult not to fall into them and drown. Up until now I had avoided looking at her lips because I knew that if I just glanced at them I would do it again, and again, and many other countless times.

My eyes fleetingly flicked down to her mouth and then back up at her eyes. Self-control and I were never friends.

“So, uh – we can go in now if you want,” I said out of the blue, motioning for her to do so.

My god, this is awkward. But apparently not that awkward because I don’t want to kill myself yet. Perhaps that’s because even though the situation is slightly uncomfortable, there’s just this pleasant air about her that makes me feel pleasant as well.

I told myself not to look down as I followed behind Camila into the coffeehouse. It would be indecent and rude. I could acknowledge the obvious fact that she was absolutely hot, but I couldn’t check out her ass like the old Lauren would without a morsel of shame. Camila seemed nice, just like Dinah had mentioned, and she could possibly be someone I’d be living with soon so I didn’t want to be attracted to her.

That would be weird for me, and would make me feel dumb. Especially if she was straight. I used to believe “there’s no such thing as a straight girl” because I’d been with plenty of girls who claimed they were straight to begin with, but I learned the hard way that such a way of thinking was absolutely stupid. And I definitely was not going to test the waters and see if my charm would work on Camila in fear that I’d end up with a red stinging cheek.

Long story short, that’s what happened the last time I tried to hit on a girl who most certainly meant it when she said she was straight.

After ordering at the front we sat down in the back where it was quiet, away from everyone else. She said she wasn’t very fond of crowds. Neither am I.

We both ordered a simple iced latte and started chatting away. Camila told me about herself and as I sat there across from her I had quite a time trying to keep my attention focused solely on what she was saying. My mind would occasionally wander off somewhere else and just leave, and I’d nod and smile as if everything she said was interesting.

Which it was…immensely – even when she started babbling on about something completely irrelevant. I could listen to her speak for hours. The words she used, the way she looked so absorbed in what she was saying was incredible. She was so well-spoken, and I was into that. She had a habit of fidgeting too much, but I found it cute. She would cross her legs as I talked, tip her chin high in the air and look at me as if she were so engaged and taken away with what we were discussing. Camila stared so intently and did this thing with her eyes that I couldn’t really explain, but I felt like she was staring into my soul, or like she was looking at what was underneath my skin, on the inside. In a way, I felt invaded, but I didn’t mind.

This girl is not a five and if someone doesn’t get her away from me I just might fall in love.

“Heaven knows, I do not need that,” I muttered aloud by accident.

I froze once I realized I had voiced my thoughts. It was something that I was used to doing when I was alone, which was just about all of the time. Dammit, I really needed to stop doing that.

Camila sat down her cup after taking a sip from the straw, pressing her lips together with raised eyebrows. She was looking at me in inquiry and it was clear that she wasn’t going to look away until I said something.

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking to myself… So, you said you work at the library. You must be used to being quiet all of the time.”

She perked up again even more, her features lighting up. She was excited because the subject was back on her. Camila seemed to love talking about herself, but in a modest way. That might sound contradicting, but in my mind it made sense.

“Most people think that. I mean, for the most part I am kinda quiet but I can be loud. I think it just takes the right person to get me talking, and of course if I’m in a good mood I’ll talk someone’s head off. Like I’m doing right now.”

Camila rolled her eyes at her own behavior, then carelessly shrugged.

I was speechless for a moment. Wow. She does talk a lot.

All of the sudden I shook my head continuously as a way of protesting, I suppose, and repositioned myself in my chair. At this point I was just moving simply to be moving, subconsciously trying to bring attention to myself. I always found myself doing that in front of attractive girls.

“The only annoying thing I can think of about me is that I’m like, really close and touchy. I hug a lot mostly, and I’ve noticed some people don’t like that. So, if you don’t like that I apologize in advance.”

I hated when people were like that, but in all honesty, Camila could be as touchy or as close with me as she liked.

“That’s not annoying. It’s fine, I’m the same way. And I like talking sometimes…talking is nice. You seem like the type who’s happy all of the time – sorta bubbly. I could use someone around the house with a nice, uplifting attitude, considering that it’s always gloomy and sullen around there nowadays.”

Camila beamed excitedly, lowering her gaze to her lap. “Speaking of sullen, that’s one of the words Dinah used to describe you,” she said with hesitance.

She got one glance at my bewildered expression before she started snickering uncontrollably. I moistened my lips and masked my indignation with a sheepish smirk.

“Dinah said that, huh?” I asked rhetorically. “In what other ways did she describe me?”

“Well, she said that you were sarcastic, weird, somewhat crude, moody and last but not least, lovely and a great listener…” Camila laughed at me. “You weren’t expecting that last part, were you?”

I shrugged. “Honestly, in this case I wasn’t, but she’s my best friend. She’ll put me down one second and then pick me back up in the next. She’s unpredictable like that, I suppose.”

Camila chewed her bottom lip as she studied me. “She also said you were kind, which is true from what I see. Those first four things she said, I’m not picking up on those.”

But the last two?

“You haven’t known me long enough yet. Stick around a little longer,” I said jokingly.

“It’ll be fine. I can deal with a little sarcasm and moodiness. And I’m weird too, trust me.”

My eyes narrowed in disbelief as I leaned forward, resting my arms on the tabletop. “Oh, yeah? What’s weird about you?”

“A lot of things,” Camila said simply. “Maybe you’ll learn about them.”

“Maybe.” I clenched my jaw, holding her gaze for quite some time.

Ugh, she’s adorable. Focus. Focus. Focus. Be professional. Stop staring at her like you want to rid her of clothes, you sexually frustrated idiot.

“So…let’s go over a few things about myself and the apartment as well. I don’t like dogs – cats are okay though, kinda – ”

“I don’t own a cat, or dog.”

“Sweet. I don’t like the smell of toast early in the morning, so don’t make toast, please. Burning bread? That’s a no-no, but I do enjoy bacon.”

For some reason Camila found this funny. Perhaps I would have too if I were in her shoes.

“I swear quite often and I sleep in late, depending on if I have some place to be early. Usually I don’t. I don’t like loud music unless it’s alt rock, or anything else of the rock genre. Play pop in the apartment and I’ll probably freak the fuck out. I have a weak spot for Ed Sheeran – is he considered pop? Don’t know, but he’s great.”

“Your music taste sounds splendid. I think we’ll get along just fine when it comes down to that,” Camila assured with a smile.

“I’m a neat freak, kinda. It really depends on how I’m feeling. Some days I feel like cleaning, some days I feel like being a slob.”

Camila nodded slowly.

“Anything else you’d like to know?”

She thoughtfully scratched her chin and made a humming sound. “Do you smoke, or drink or anything like that?”

“I don’t smoke. Smoking makes me anxious. I do drink…occasionally. I don’t do drugs.”

Occasionally? More like every single weekend, or whenever I know I’m gonna have a slow day. Technically I wasn’t lying about that, because I told her I did. As for the drug thing…that may be a lie. I did have a minor pill issue that started back in college, but it’s not like I had a meth lab in the apartment so I figured it was no big deal.

Camila held back a grin, narrowing her eyes at me like she knew I was being dishonest. “Are you sure?” she teased, dragging her fingers across my forearm.

I fleetingly glanced down at her hand as something disastrous occurred in the pit of my stomach. The term butterflies was so cliche, but that’s what this sensation felt like. It felt like thousands of them rioting inside of me, and then my skin pebbled up in goosebumps. I’m not sure why, but I found it baffling how she could sit there purely oblivious to how she made me feel with just one stroke of her soft hands.

Abruptly coming out of my daze, I pushed my hair out my face and frivolously rolled my eyes. “I’m positive,” I insisted, smirking easily as I hunched my shoulders.

“Then why did you hunch your shoulders as if you were thinking, ‘i’m lying but it’s not that big of a deal’”

“I see you’re picking up on my body language and gestures mighty fast, huh? Impressive.”

Camila threw her arm and wrapped it around the back of the chair she was sitting in, her posture awkwardly crooked. Then she shrugged in a nonchalant manner almost identical to the way I did it a few seconds ago.

“It’s not that hard.” Camila let out a sigh of exasperation with her eyes slightly lidded, now looking me up and down condescendingly. She wore a mask of smugness, and I could tell from the reddening of her cheeks that she was stifling laughter.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Yes, and I had no idea it’d be that fun.”

I frowned, jerking my body into an upright position. “I do not sit like that.”

“You kinda do sit like you have no spine, and for the record, you are totally condescending.”

I studied her intently, not quite sure what to say. She wasn’t exactly angering me – I wasn’t growing angry with her constant taunting. It almost felt like she was trying to challenge me, just to see how I’d react.

“Am not.”

Camila smiled sweetly, crinkling her nose at me. “Why did I guess that you wouldn’t have a clue on how condescending and arrogant you are?” she asked innocently.

“Thought you said I was kind?”

“You are kind, really, but at the same time you have this arrogant air about you. You’re not showing it so much verbally, but your body language and the way you move indicates that your ego is enormous.”

“I used to be like that actually. It just took me recently to figure out that I’m not shit.”

She momentarily grew silent, brows raising.

“Don’t say that. You are shit. You are the shit. And so am I. Think good of yourself, Lauren.”

“…You just stomped on what was left of my ego, and now you’re complimenting me in a weird way and trying to be encouraging?” I said confusedly.

“I apologize. I was just trying to see how you react when you’re angry. I wouldn’t want to move in with someone whose got serious anger issues and flips shit over nothing,” Camila explained, laughing awkwardly.

I gulped and tried as hard as I could to get rid of the slight scowl etched on my face that she didn’t seem to notice at all. As I reluctantly joined in on the laughter and held Camila’s gaze I learned that it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be to get un-mad. It was difficult to stay mad at a face like that.

“All of the things you said and…demonstrated, though – they’re pretty true. I do sit like I don’t have a spine sometimes, I smirk too often, I always have bedroom eyes for no reason at all – it’s just the way my eyes are, and I am arrogant,” I admitted, clearly abashed.

Camila merely giggled at me. “And that’s fine,” she stated truthfully. “You’re not annoying or anything. In fact, you seem completely tolerable, and I wouldn’t have a problem living with you.”

“Feeling’s mutual…”

“Sounds good.”

“Sounds great.”

She raised an eyebrow at me, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“Well, I can show you around the place Monday, or right now if that’s convenient for you,” I suggested.

The expression on her face lit up. “That would be great. We could do it now… – take a look around the apartment, I mean.”

“Right.” I smiled wryly.

She was such a dork.

We stood at the same time. I gathered my things together and drank from my cup, slurping rather loudly to get her attention while patiently waiting for her get situated. Giving me a funny look, Camila giggled at me and playfully pushed my arm on the way to the door. I grinned and incredulously glanced down at my shoulder where she touched me with force before hurriedly jostling through the crowd to catch up.

“Did you drive here?” I asked her, shading my eyes with my hand as I scanned the area.

“Walked.”

“I guess you’re riding shotgun with me then, because the apartment is a great distance away for walking if you ask me. So, you walked here from the library?”

“Okay, sure. And I did. I walk to and from work all of the time to save gas, unless I’m like, really not in the mood or something.” She laughed.

I lead the way toward the parking lot with Camila keeping up at my side. The expression on her face whenever she saw my car was priceless, and at first I was confused. She was gaping and grinning at me like I knew what had her so puzzled – then it suddenly hit me right as she did. Yes, she gently slapped me on the arm and clung to me, giggling up a storm. I chuckled to myself, gazing down at her in awe.

When she looked up I had to quickly get rid of that obvious look of infatuation.

“This is your car? You’re the one who almost ran those people over! I called you a moron and you just went along with it over the phone!” Camila exclaimed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Grinning devilishly, I shrugged as she continued to stare at me in disbelief. Eventually I dropped my head and shook it ashamedly. “Yeah, that was me. I’m guilty.”

“You should have said so.”

I watched her walk around to the other side of the car, allowing my eyes to wander lower and land on her hips. She moved awkwardly, almost like she knew she was being watched. My head whipped up whenever I saw her hair swing to the other side in my peripheral view. Camila studied me a moment with an unreadable expression, looked me up and down a few times as she rounded the front of my jeep.

Chewing my lip, I placed my hand on the nape of my neck and averted my gaze elsewhere. She caught me. Shit. She caught me.

“No doors,” Camila noted. “Interesting.”

I turned to her and nodded with a slight smile. “Yes. My brother took them off for me recently.”

“It looks cool, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s…safe? I mean, I’m like, really small so I could just slip out, you know?” She grabbed the top, using it to hoist herself into the car.

“That won’t happen,” I assured in a serious manner, hopping in. “Just buckle up and everything will be fine. I haven’t fallen out yet.”

The engine started with a loud, struggling roar. We headed out of the lot and made our way across the city. Camila seemed very speculative of the car and everything around her, asking if she could play with the radio, and then turning it off upon realizing there was nothing good to listen to. There wasn’t much said throughout the ride.

She asked me a few unnecessary questions about the apartment to fill in the awkward silence and teased me for almost hitting those innocent bystanders. I didn’t pay her any mind though.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, the sun was just setting.

What was left of the sun on the horizon painted the sky this unusual pink hue that was intriguing to look at. Camila got out of the car and set her gaze skyward, smiling up at the clouds in a daze of admiration.

“You know, that would be a pretty picture.”

She glanced back at me. “Then what are you waiting for? Take it,” she urged, and smiled beautifully.

Rolling my eyes, I took out my camera. I approached her side and knelt, carefully pointing the camera at an upward angle in which Camila was looking up and the unusual colored sky was the backdrop that would bring the photograph alive. Mainly she was the center focus, and to me that was what made it pretty.

I snapped the photo twice to make sure I got a good shot. Camila rushed over to check out the picture. The last one taken displayed on the screen before our eyes. I flipped back and forth between the two, asking her which one she thought looked best. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, tilting her head from side to side and scrunching her mouth up like it was the hardest decision ever.

“There’s not much of a difference between them,” I pointed out, laughing.

Camila frustratedly shuffled in place, glimpsing at me out the corner of her eye. “I see that, but there seems to be a slight difference. The first one looks slightly better for some reason.”

“I get it, trust me. I have to decide between pictures that look exactly the same all of the time. Contrary to what you may think, there is always a slight, minor difference that makes one look better.”

I started walking for the apartment building, eyes trained on the screen. “I’ll send this to you or something sometime. It’ll be on my website soon.”

“You have a website? Wow, look at you. You sound like a pretty big deal.” She nudged my shoulder.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I made it myself for people to contact me, look at my work and things like that.”

“I see. You seem very devoted and passionate about what you do.”

“Photography is my passion. Just wish a lot more income came from it.”

I showed Camila around the apartment, which didn’t take very long. We both decided that it would be her new home as soon as she was able to move in. Apparently Tuesday would be the big day. She made a loud outburst whenever I handed her her very own key to the place; something like a shrill “WOOHOOO”, and she threw her arms in the air like she won the lottery or something. Camila told me that she’d been living with her parents and younger sister for the past couple of months and that was when I truly felt her excitement on a spiritual level.

After all of that craziness was over, I drove her home because dusk had long fallen and she lived a great distance away.

Even if she lived right up the street I wouldn’t have let her walk. Dinah called me about two hours later sounding very morose and guilty so I knew she was going to tell me that she couldn’t make it well before she even said it. She tried to ask me about how meeting up with Camila went, but I said that I didn’t feel like talking because I’d already downed half the bottle of Grey Goose in my hand. I was also going to bitch to her for lying to me about Camila’s appearance, and I wanted to know why she did, but I said screw it. I was sick of dealing with people for the day, so I hung up on Dinah and decided not to touch the phone for the rest of the night.

It was going to be another night alone, and somehow at first all the alcohol and pills made me feel a little less lonely. I enjoyed it immensely while it lasted because I knew that once my second bottle was almost empty, I’d begin to feel again.

I’d always been a fun drunk, but once about two hours rolled by if I wasn’t knocked out somewhere I was laying face-flat on a couch sobbing uncontrollably and gasping for air, too lazy to lift my face just to fucking breathe; in hope that I’d actually suffocate. It was sad, and usually how most of my weekends went if I didn’t have to work the next day. Dinah, the only person who knew about this ongoing…issue I was struggling with tried to address it recently. I remember feeling so relieved on the inside. It was relieving to know that someone cared enough to think it was a problem to be worried about.

In all truth, it was becoming a problem, I guess. But I could stop the drinking if I wanted to…right? That’s what I often told myself, but I never made an attempt to see if I were telling myself the truth. I figured once Camila moved in Tuesday I would have to stop. I wouldn’t ever want her to see me in a drunken fit of sorrow, or fit of rage, or a fit of any intense emotion that I was incapable of controlling.

I wondered what her first thoughts of me were. As I stood in front of the stove barely able to stand making breakfast at ten at night, I thought and thought and thought. All of the thinking was probably a result of the painkillers kicking in. For some reason, the thought of Camila made me want to try and get my act together. It was either because she was such a good person, or because I was slightly attracted to her.

Okay, more like majorly. The thought of being attracted to her was scary, but the thought of her being attracted to me was absolutely frightening. I was always moping around about being so alone all of the time and I was finally getting a roommate next week. I should’ve been relieved, but instead I was feeling quite uneasy about it.

Camila had undoubtedly noticed the way I looked at her in the parking lot earlier. I couldn’t help but wonder if she were flirting by teasing me or if she was like that to everyone. It was hard to tell with some people – especially people like her who are so nice and friendly.

What if she was into me? I hoped she wasn’t into me. That would be disastrous. I’d probably hurt her just like I’d hurt everyone else who’s ever crossed my path. But what if I’m better now? What if I’ve finally grown into someone better? Part of me wants to believe that, but part of me doesn’t.

The last girlfriend I had shaped me into a better person, I believe. In a way. We broke each other’s heart, but to be frank, I remorselessly tore hers from her chest and stepped all over it. Lacey was the definition of batshit crazy. She screamed and complained way too much for my liking and I had the tendency to scream back, but despite all of our altercations and misunderstandings I was in love with her. It took me a week after our breakup to realize something like that. I used to think I couldn’t have loved Lacey, but if what I felt was a mere lie then I wouldn’t have felt like jumping off a building once it was over between us.

(Or perhaps you just couldn’t face the thought of being alone, or coming home to an empty house, or not having anyone to sleep next to? Perhaps you did not love her. Perhaps you’re all about yourself and you just hate facing loneliness and abandon? Perhaps you’ve never truly loved anyone but yourself. That sounds more like it.)

I cheated on her several times out of malice. As cruel and vile as it sounds, I would sleep with other girls to get back at her for something she said or did. For some ungodly reason I saw it as retaliation. I never even told her about it. It was just a way for me to feel a relief from all of the anger she made me feel. I honestly don’t blame her for getting the hell away from me.

Needless to say, I didn’t want to fall for someone else any time soon, and I didn’t want someone to fall for me. To this day, I feel guilty for how I treated not only Lacey, but all of my previous girlfriends as well. No one deserved to deal with the hell my inconsiderate ass would put them through. I certainly hoped Camila wanted nothing to do with me when it came down to a romantic interest.

That could not happen.

I hit my head repeatedly with the heel of my hand, trying to knock all of the thoughts out of it. After I finished burning a couple of sausages, I dumped them onto a plate right along with three pancakes and eggs that still had the raw yolk in them somewhere. There were more than likely a few cracked egg shells in there as well, but what did I care?

Orange is the New Black had already began playing on my computer in the living area, so I started grabbing things in a drunken hurry. All of my hands were full so I carried the syrup with my teeth, another fresh bottle of alcohol wedged underneath my arm. I trained my eyes on the screen, often getting distracted by other things around me; like the sudden sound of the air unit coming on, or the sound of someone going and bumping about outside in the hallway. Staring in space never seemed so…relaxing.

I chugged down the intoxicating liquid like it was the last drinkable substance on earth. The pancakes I made, though almost black and burnt, were delicious once I smothered them with syrup. I was eating rather slowly because my movements were drastically impaired, and also because I was too busy thinking about every funny thing that ever happened to me and laughing hysterically instead of watching the show.

Things were going well until I became too drowsy to even keep my head up. At one point I dozed off with eggs in my mouth and ended up choking a little. I laughed about that, too as I took another long draft from the bottle.

Suddenly the room around me went blurry and the audio from my computer grew distant. I felt my body slowly, but stiffly tilt forward, and I imagined if I were to see it from someone else’s perspective it would be like watching a tree trunk fall to the ground after someone cut it in half.

My face landed right on the plate of unfinished breakfast. I groaned, made a lousy attempt to get up, but my body felt too heavy to move. So I just laid there in syrup and mushy eggs, dozing in and out of consciousness for quite some time.

And then suddenly I was out, all at once; kind of like a light.


	2. highs and lows

I heard a loud rap at the door in my sleep and thought it was apart of a dream, so I didn’t budge. It was hard to differentiate reality from the dream world. And even if I wanted to move I simply couldn’t. My body felt terribly heavy and achy, and there was this god-awful pulsating pound inside of my head. It felt like my brain was throbbing and eventually on the inevitable verge of exploding.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

It wouldn’t cease, and I figured I would’ve been better off if someone hit me upside the head with a sledgehammer to put me out of my misery.

Yeah, it was that bad.

Whenever I peeled my eyes open the slightest bit, to my surprise – and total dismay – Camila hovering over me with sheer terror glazing her doe eyes. I thought that was apart of a dream, too. She was calling my name in frantic gasps, her fingers trembling as they grazed from my cheekbones to my neck. I was dozing off again when she shook me out of my drunken stupor.

“Lauren…” She grabbed my cheeks and squeezed them together, gingerly shaking my head from side to side. Camila released a sigh of total relief when I groaned and clawed her hands away from my face. “You scared the living hell out of me. I thought you were dead or something. I swear to God you weren’t breathing.”

“Oh, man,” I whined as a wave of profound embarrassment came crashing over me. “Why are you here? How did you get in? I’d rather you not see me like this.”

The curtains had been pulled back, allowing the bright sun to shine through the cracks in the blinds. I was stunned by the light and groggily grabbed a pillow to bury my face in.

“That fuckin’ sun. Lousy son of a bitch,” I said vaguely, completely out of it as I made a vain attempt to sit up.

“Um, you gave me a key Saturday, remember? I knocked on the door first but you wouldn’t answer. Dinah was really busy so she asked me to come over and check on you because you wouldn’t answer your phone and she knew you drank a lot Saturday night,” Camila stated casually.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? She couldn’t check on her own friend?”

“She’s at work.”

A few seconds later I heard her sigh. I hesitantly moved the pillow to the side to get a peek at her, grumbling an inaudible apology. Camila looked rather uncomfortable sitting on the edge of a couch next to her new roommate whom was too hungover to even fully understand what was going on at the moment. I may have been confused, but I sure as hell knew one thing; I was absolutely mortified.

She slowly rose to her feet and looked around, appearing overwhelmed by the mess I’d made. “By the looks of it, you really did drink a lot Saturday night. Dinah mentioned that this happens quite often…”

Swearing under my breath, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Why would she tell you that?” I mumbled, grimacing in agony. “And is it Tuesday already?”

“Don’t feel ashamed or anything, alright?” Camila said softly. She gave my shoulder a long comforting rub, smiling warmly down at me. “It’s not Tuesday yet, but it is Monday. Did you sleep through the whole day yesterday?”

“I’m afraid so. Wow, this sucks. I can’t believe it…”

“You could have choked on your own vomit, Lauren. Come on, let’s sit you up.”

“But I don’t wanna move.”

I sat stiff while Camila helped me sit up straight, no longer protesting once I realized that she had to be all over me just to do so. She grunted, struggling to get me in a comfortable position. At one point, her chest came in contact with my face, so I pinched my eyes shut and pretended to be in pain, acting as if it didn’t happen. I wasn’t cooperating much, but she didn’t seem to mind. She carefully placed a pillow behind my neck to keep my head leveled.

“I honestly don’t know how I got in the position I was in on this couch,” I rasped. “I remember falling asleep on top of the table with my face in that plate right there.”

Camila followed my finger, wincing at the sight of the breakfast. “That would explain why you have some sticky, gunky stuff all over your face.”

I grinned weakly. “Syrup, I believe.”

Now that I was sitting up, the pounding in my head was worsening. It was easy to disregard the pain with Camila sitting next to me acting like a nurse or something. The longer she stayed there studying me worriedly, the more pathetic I felt. She looked as if she had so many questions in her head about me at the moment ;for she appeared to be lost in thought and her eyes would shift across my face ever-so-slightly as if she were trying to read me.

“I’m going to get you some water. Do you have any Aspirin?” Camila asked as she stood up and made her way toward the kitchen.

I bit my bottom lip so hard it went numb. “Second cabinet above the bar. Aspirin sounds  _great_  right now. Thanks.”

It didn’t take long for her to get back with everything. She cleared the table off as I glared up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to cry. I heard the rattling of pills in a bottle and felt my stomach drop. Camila was definitely going to question me about that, so I braced myself. The silence in the room grew so heavy that I felt like a boulder had been placed on my chest.

To my surprise, she didn’t say anything; she just studied the bottle briefly before placing it to the side.  _Say something. Say something. I don’t like silence._

I felt like she was silently judging me.

Camila soon sat next to me again without a word. She helped me take the aspirins and then held a warm paper towel in front of my face expectantly. I fidgeted uncomfortably and glanced at her in confusion, swallowing down the painful knot in my throat. My body felt feeble.

“Are you feeling lethargic? Can you move?”

“I don’t think – I don’t know…” I sputtered, pausing with an exasperated sigh. “No, I’m just really nauseous and weak. My arms are heavy.”

Camila began to gently wipe the sticky gunk off my face for me. I closed my eyes to make the situation less awkward and tried to relax. After she finished, we sat there in silence. She cocked her head to the side and searched my eyes after I’d opened them. She simply sat next to me for the next twenty minutes with her knees brought up to her chest, seemingly waiting for me to feel better. Every time I grimaced or moaned, she’d lean forward and give my shoulder a long, consoling rub. It made me feel all the comfort in the world. Why was she so nice?

The headache was easing up soon enough, as was the stiffness in my neck. I carefully turned to look at her. Camila was staring into oblivion, gnawing on her bottom lip. Whenever she noticed my gaze trained on her she met my eyes and smiled.

God, she looked so precious.

She was wearing a long black and white patterned cardigan over a black tank top and pair of shorts. Her hair was straightened today, and I was briefly shocked by how long and beautiful it was. So silky looking that I wanted to reach out and let it slip through my fingers.

She had taken her tattered black Converses off before putting her feet on the couch. I found that ironic because the living area was currently a war zone. A little dirt on the couch wouldn’t be a big deal.

“Looks like you had a one girl party Saturday night,” she said, looking around the place once again.

I smiled wanly, giving my head a shake. “What time is it?”

“A little after noon… 1:02.”

“Oh my God. Wow.”

“I have a quick question for you. Did you take those painkillers with alcohol?”

“Think so. Yes, I did.”

Camila pursed her lips together and sighed through her nose, looking at me like a disappointed mother. She appeared more worried than anything.

“Lauren. That is so dangerous, don’t you know that? People care about you, and I just feel like it’s rather selfish of you to do something so reckless that could turn out fatal. Not only should you think about your own well-being next time, but you should consider everyone’s feelings around you, and how they would feel if you hurt yourself.”

I just stared at her.

Camila looked taken aback shortly after her monologue, seemingly shocked that that came out of her mouth. Frankly, I was shocked too – but I didn’t get angry with her. I didn’t quite have the energy, or the heart to explode on Camila. I couldn’t believe that someone could care so much for someone they knew so little. It was going to be nice having someone like her around. I needed someone like her around, living with me.

“You’re right,” I murmured.

“Were you trying to hurt yourself?” Her words were so brittle and quiet, almost like it pained her to even utter them. Her expression was contorting with something wretched.

“No.”

“Do you want to tell me why you did that then?”

“I wanted to not think about some things for a while.” I sighed, lifting my head to hold her intent, curious wide-eyed gaze. “I just wanted to be  _happy happy_ for once. Dinah was supposed to come over, and I wanted to be happy for her and laugh, like I used to laugh. I think she misses that. I miss that too. You probably don’t understand, so I don’t think I should say more than I already have. I don’t even understand, but no I wasn’t aiming for suicide.”

I was clearly showing signs of embarrassment, and my words shook with uncertainty and some indescribable pain I couldn’t fathom. The knot welted up in my throat again, and I was digging my fist into my thigh, resisting blinking so the tears wouldn’t slide down my cheek.

It was becoming easier to move, and I didn’t feel as weak anymore. I angrily wiped at the tears with the heel of my hand. The knot just kept getting more and more painful and I knew that if I didn’t excuse myself I was either going to start bawling in front of her - I’m talking all out ugly cry - or throw an insane fit.

There was something inside of me all of the sudden now that my emotions were profound, a feeling deep inside my gut that was odd in the uneasiest of ways. The uncanny, familiar feeling automatically brought me back to ten months ago when I knew that something had went wrong with someone important in my life before I even got the call that my mom was dead. It was in the pit of my stomach and voices were hollering in the back of my head that something had gone wrong, that it was her time already. This feeling was visiting me again today. _Uninvited.  
_

I didn’t know why, and I didn’t want to know why. I just wanted it to go away.

Apparently it was too overwhelming, because all so suddenly Camila was giving me that “oh, god no” look as bile filled up inside my mouth. I shot up and ran to the bathroom, making it just in time.

After I’d finished puking my guts up, the feeling in my stomach still hadn’t went away, and I ended up feeling a bit weaker than I did before. I could actually walk now, though. I trudged to the sink like a zombie and very, very slowly washed my face and brushed my teeth. Surprisingly, my hair wasn’t much of a mess, despite the fact that there was a little bit of dried syrup in it. I was in dire need of a shower because I reeked of hard liquor, and I was still in the same outfit from Saturday with a mean case of cottonmouth. What a fucking shame.

Pressing my palms to the counter and leaning forward, I glared at my reflection in the mirror for quite some time, trying to come up with the courage to go back out and face Camila. She clearly wasn’t going to judge me  _aloud,_ but I still couldn’t help but wonder and be afraid of what she’d  _think_  of me after all of this.  _She probably thinks I’m a drunk now. Why the fuck would Dinah tell her that this happens often and make me look bad?_

_Face it, Dinah didn’t make you look bad. You made yourself look bad by being too fucked to even wake up to answer the door._

I grabbed a patch of my hair and started pacing.

“Breathe easy, darling. Take a deep breath. Breathe easy. Breathe easy,” I chanted breathlessly in a robotic manner, smacking myself upside the head. “Take a d _eep. fucking. breath_.  _Breathe_.” I was on the verge of tears, very much on the brink of going into hysterics.

It might sound weird that I was practically yelling at myself while grinding the heel of my hand into my eyes, but this was something I did quite often usually without all of the hitting and slapping myself. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn’t. I remember it helped the most whenever Mom said it, though.

My throat was tightening and I couldn’t breathe. I unbuttoned my flannel because I felt like it was suffocating me, snatched it off and threw it to the floor before rushing out of the bathroom in just a white tank and the same dark skinny jeans from days before. Camila looked alarmed as I came around the corner heaving and leaned against the wall at my side. I took deep breaths in and out. She sat up straight in a hurry and stared at me in concern.

“Are you okay? Are you having a panic attack?”

For a while I didn’t say anything. Only held my hands up in front of me to indicate that she needed to stay back and give me some space. When it all simmered down, I crossed my arms and massaged my sweaty neck.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” I answered morosely and forced a weak grin.

It wasn’t convincing. I didn’t care though.

“Is my phone over there? Feel like I should check it and see what’s up. Hope to God I don’t have to do anything today. Can’t remember what was on my schedule for today.”

Camila looked around until she found my phone underneath a blanket on the couch. “Here it is,” she announced proudly, coming over to hand it to me.

I was feeling severely conflicted as I grabbed my phone, and since I have a hard time hiding my emotions, it was pretty evident that something was ailing me. I placed my hand on my jaw, sighed and bowed my head miserably.

“Listen, I’m sorry about all of this. I feel pretty stupid, and I just hate that you had to deal with me today. I want you to know that I’m not always like this, and that I won’t make your life a living hell when you move in.”

She merely smiled. I felt an uncomfortable heat rush up to my chest in a fleeting second. She smiled and looked at me like I was really important. With care. No girl had ever smiled at me in such a way.

“Lauren, I didn’t do this because I felt sorry for you, or because I felt like I had to. I did it because you’re a nice person, and you’re my new roommate, and I care about you. We should take care of each other, you know? It wasn’t an obligation – it was my choice to come here and check on you, and to nurse you a little bit. I wanted to, so you don’t have to apologize.” Camila gave me a hug and gently patted me on the back. “I’m just glad you’re feeling slightly okay? This could have ended badly, but it didn’t. Be grateful.”

Smiling all timidly, I nodded. When I checked my phone I was surprised to see that my sister and my dad had called me several times over the past 24 hours. Something was up, and my gut feeling was going to be accurate once again. I called up my dad, but he didn’t answer.

“Don’t you have work today?” I asked Camila, nervously biting my lip as I scrolled through the contacts for Taylor’s name.

“Lunch break.”

“Well, you should probably get back.” I paused to smile up at her, though the feeling inside of me was eating me up second by second. I was so focused on trying to get her out of here. I did not want her to be here for whatever was about to transpire. “I’m fine now, and yeah. Thanks again.”

Camila raised an eyebrow dubiously. “Are you sure everything is fine – ”

I held up a finger, gesturing for her to wait a moment once Taylor finally picked up the fucking phone. Then I nodded vigorously, flailing my hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

“Now you finally decide to call me back?” Taylor said in a hollow voice. The way her sentence was put together suggested that she was angry, but she sounded too distraught to even utter it in a venomous manner like she normally would.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry about that. Why were you and Dad blowing up my phone all day yesterday? What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“I was just about to come over because you weren’t answering, but it looks like there’s no point. I think you should get over here to Mom and Dad’s now, as soon as possible.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I turned around to face the wall. Camila was on her way out the door, walking slowly like she didn’t want to leave too soon. Something was terribly wrong. I could tell by how flat Taylor’s voice was, how she spoke in monotone as if every single emotion had been drained from her entire being.

“You’re not telling me what the matter is, Taylor. What the fuck is the matter?” I snapped, words sharp as a sword.

“It’s Chris. He and Scarlet were in an accident yesterday morning. They’re both dead.”

My stomach dropped all of the sudden and denial came over me like a tsunami of waves. I locked my jaw tight – so tight that my teeth began to ache and my face muscles throbbed with a vengeance. My body went stiff and all I could think to do was hang up, so that’s what I did. I sat my phone on the marble counter of the kitchen island, hands trembling. I couldn’t breathe. I could not fucking breathe.

_This couldn’t be. Chris isn’t dead. Car accident? That’s not likely. He’s the safe, responsible driver out of us all. If he was driving there’s no way he got into an accident. I’m the one who drives like a maniac. Why wasn’t it me? He’s not dead. Why couldn’t I die instead of him? This isn’t happening. I don’t want to feel this all over again._

“Lauren?”

I looked up with wild, widening eyes, swallowing down the lump in my throat. I’d forgotten that Camila was still in the apartment just loitering around. Tears began to cascade down my cheeks, but I just chuckled quietly and slid my phone into my pocket. I licked my chapped lips, averting my eyes when I noticed the furrowing of her brows. She was giving me a suspicious look, probably wondering if I’d gone insane.

“Don’t worry about it, Camila. You should get back to work. I’m fine. My sister just told me that our brother died in an accident. I’m gonna go over to my dad’s house and see what’s up.” I wagged my head nonchalantly. “She’s probably just screwing with my head. I mean, sister’s do that sometimes, am I right?”

_Nope. Never._

-

As it turned out, the news wasn’t a ruse for the mind. My brother was gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back. I think that since we went through the same thing with my mom only ten months ago, it was a bit easier to grasp the the bitter truth of it all. Chris and Scarlet were going down a rural road on the way to pick up some breakfast at McDonald’s for their daughter when an eighteen wheeler on the other side of the road came into their lane. Chris reacted quickly and jerked out of the way, flipping his truck off into a steep ditch. Scarlet was dead at the scene. Just dead, just like that. No longer here. Chris died at the hospital, and I could’ve been there to see him but I was passed out on the couch living in my dreams, oblivious to the real world. I was too busy being a loser, and I wasn’t there for my family. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t be okay with the fact that I didn’t get to say goodbye.

Things like this kind of make you think irrationally. Like why does that happen? Why does death occur? Why does death have to be a thing? Why can’t we all just live forever, or at least die happily of old age with our families – not in tragic, painful car accidents out of fucking nowhere.

They buried Chris and his wife today, a week and a day after the accident; undoubtedly the hardest Monday in my entire life.

My dad was stricken with grief. He didn’t really say much about how he felt, but all of the vacant stares and locking himself in a dark room for hours gave it away. He’d just lost his wife, our mom ten months prior, but he knew her death was coming inevitably because of the cancer she’d been battling. We all did. But this, this had come out of nowhere and hit us hard. I was afraid my dad wouldn’t cope. I was afraid for others’ sanity more than my own, because mine had long gone.

I was also afraid for Freya, Chris’ daughter that luckily wasn’t with her parents when the accident occurred. She stayed with Dad, because she was too tired for a car ride and had begged and begged to stay with her granddad. So of course Chris went out of his way to bring her to Dad’s that morning. Freya always got what she wanted. She was only five-years-old, and up until last Thursday she thought her mom and dad were on a trip. As far as I know, she still believed that they were gone temporarily and that they’d be back soon. She kept on saying that. No one would be able to make her understand it even if they tried.

The look on her face when Taylor explained everything to her was devastating. Confusion. So much confusion.

_“Your mom and dad have gone to a better place. They’re no longer here, but you’ll see them again someday. We promise.”_

She pulled a perplexed look for a moment and then simply said, “I think they’ll be back”, and turned to look back at the cartoons displayed on the television in front of her. I think what tore me up was the look of hope in her eyes, because little did she know, all the hope in the entire world couldn’t bring them back.

The death of my brother brought the girls and I together. Dinah and Ally came over and stayed with me every day of the week at the apartment for hours, and Normani even took two days off from work, including today. They stood next to me at the funeral – even Camila – squeezed my hand a few times to remind me that they were there and that it’d be okay. I felt so empty standing out in that graveyard, almost like my insides were rotting away. I could feel the griping of my stomach. I’d been wanting to hurl all day.

I felt so alone as several family members and friends said kind words about Chris and Scarlet. I blocked everything out and stared down at the grass, thinking about the last time I’d saw him, my last words to him, the last time we spent a day together – all of the petty arguments we had as teenagers that Mom had to break up. He married Scarlet about a year ago, four years after they had Freya, and from what I recollect they were  _really, really_  happy together.

Chris was great with kids, and even at age eighteen he wasn’t freaked out by the thought of having Freya. He was a great guy, and a great brother – too great of one to leave me, and everyone else who loved him at the mere age of 23.

I couldn’t hear anything going on around me; all I heard were my thoughts. I was just thinking, and thinking so much – thinking about what I’d say if I decided to go before everyone and give a few words. The next thing I knew Dinah was shaking me to get my attention and telling me that everyone was leaving now.

Taken aback by her words, I looked around for myself and watched as people left the graveyard, loading into their cars off in the distance. I glanced at the two closed caskets merely feet away, next to my mother’s grave. My mouth was ajar, and it took me a while to grasp onto reality and put together what I wanted to say.

“Give me a moment,” I told her flatly, moistening my lips.

Dinah studied me with furrowed eyebrows, searching over my expression in concern with that look of pity she’d been giving me all week. She then patted my shoulder before turning to join the girls who were making their way out of the graveyard as well. When I still didn’t budge from that spot after ten minutes, Camila came over in silence. I almost didn’t notice her presence until she nudged my arm and awkwardly said, “Hey you”.

She lowered her face to get a good look at mine – that was when we made brief eye contact. I felt my heart leap.

“Do you want a hug?” Camila asked in low tones.

I simply shook my head no in response. “I just want to sit here, until I die. Then have them bury me.”

She hesitated; clearly she wasn’t expecting to hear something like that. All of the sudden, Camila grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them tight, in a secure, assuring manner as if saying, “I’m here”. In my peripheral view I could see her watching me with a painful grimace set on her face, waiting for me to just look up at her.

It took me a while, but I finally lifted my head to look into her eyes. It was the most rejuvenating thing to see her smile through all of this darkness. Camila was the light guiding me through this dark, everlasting tunnel of tragedy.

“That doesn’t sound too fun. Think about it.” She rubbed her thumb on the back of my hand in small, tender circles.

Off in the distance the girls were standing around facing our direction expectantly.

“Are they waiting for me?”

She glanced back briefly, then nodded. “Yeah, but just take your time. We’re not going to leave you here.”

I felt her grasp loosening and before she could let go, I gently tugged at her hand and pulled her closer to me. “Stay with me,” I pleaded softly.

A few seconds after my impulsive actions, I felt slightly embarrassed for being so clingy. I shut my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at her, but then I remembered how she slept next to me bundled under a blanket on the couch with her face buried in the crook of my neck last Thursday night. Clearly with her there was no such thing as being too close, or too touchy – she just thought of it as being a friend consoling another friend in dire need of comfort, which was fine with me, I guess. For now.

“I thought you wanted some space, I’m sorry. Of course I’ll stay. We can stay right here as long as you want.”

If it weren’t for Camila I would’ve stood there next to my mother and brother’s grave all night. I explained to her that I wanted to leave, but I felt as if I couldn’t – I felt as if something was holding me back, like my feet were rooted to the grond. She encouraged me to take just one step, and then I kept on walking. Camila followed at my side, at my pace, all the while reminding me, “It’s just one step at a time, Lauren. It’s going to be okay.”

-

I was in my old room laying flat on my back with my gaze set on the ceiling. I’d come up here to get away from everyone downstairs and to slip myself a few very potent painkillers to ease my mind and make me a more pleasant human being to be around. I was sure no one expected me to be miss sunshine after my brother’s funeral, but I got sick of feeling so angry at the world and at innocent people who had nothing to do with anything. I didn’t like being angry. It was such a wretched emotion, but I’d been feeling it a lot lately, just searching for someone to blame and take everything out on.

That made me feel vile.

We were holding some bullshit called a repast here at my mom and dad’s house, the house I grew up in. I’d always hated the gathering after a funeral where the friends and family came together to congregate and eat to get over the mourning phase. Half of these people were only here for the free fucking food – they weren’t fooling anyone.

There was a knock at my door, and then I saw Dinah barge through it without giving me the chance to say she was allowed to come in. She closed the door behind her with her foot because her hands were full; she was carrying a soda in one hand and about five mini sandwiches in the other.

“Figured you’d be up here. Do you want to be alone, Lo, or would you liked to be graced with my presence?” She collapsed on my futon on the other side of the room and sighed in exhaustion.

“I’m fine with you being up here,” I said, fidgeting around.

“Want one of these sandwiches? Whoever made them needs to be slapped because they forgot to add mayo, but they’re good.”

I glanced in her direction, briefly eying the nearly smashed sandwiches. “Sure. Why not?”

Dinah tossed me two and we both munched on them while carrying a conversation. She informed me on what had been going on downstairs for the past thirty minutes and said that she would’ve been up here to find me sooner but she had to get to the chicken wings before they all got gone. Typical Dinah.

“I waited in line for no reason because by the time I got up there, they were all gone. And you know what, it turns out that that bitch Normani got the last ones left.”

“Jeez,” I whispered vaguely, snickering. Soon enough my snickers turned into full on hysterical laughter. “I bet if this weren’t a funeral reception you would’ve pounced her ass, huh?”

Dinah scoffed and said, “Oh, please. Of course not, I have too much elegance and class to cause such disorder.”

“Right…Where’s Camila?”

She suddenly perked up, her lips twisting in amusement. “Your little girlfriend is downstairs on the couch with Ally and Normani.”

Rolling my eyes, I groaned very loudly and chucked a pillow in Dinah’s direction. She dodged it at the last second, which was surprising because her reflexes were normally terribly slow.

“She is not my girlfriend, Dinah. I don’t have a fucking girlfriend…”

“Oh,  _right_. Camila is  _just_  your new  _roommate_  who just so happens to be all over you 24/7. You and I aren’t even that touchy feely and we’ve been friends for how long now?”

“You’ve got it all wrong. She’s just been trying to comfort me. That’s her way of doing so, and to be frank with you I don’t have a problem with it whatsoever.”

“Of course you don’t.” She bit her lip, and I just knew she was about to say something stupid by the devious look in her eyes. “I wouldn’t either… - nah, I’m just kidding.”

I grinned real big and threw a piece of bread at her. “Dinah Jane, you little pervert.”

"I was just kidding. Her and I have known each other for awhile, you know."

"Oh yeah? Why have you never introduced me to her then? Why have I never seen you guys hanging out?"

Dinah opened her mouth, but then closed it. She sighed and said, “It’s like that kind of weird friendship where you see each other once in a while out in public and you still say hey and make a bit of awkward small talk. I don’t know.”

She sounded so uncomfortable, but I didn’t question it. Dinah was weird sometimes.

"Like where you’re close in high school, but you kind of lose contact but still see each other at random times? Were you guys close in high school?" I asked, placing my hands on my stomach and crossing my legs.

She let the question linger in the air and when I looked over at her she was taking a long draft of her Pepsi.

"Yep," Dinah said finally, and smiled. "That explains it."

All of the sudden the door creaked open and Camila poked her head in slowly, singsonging Freya’s name. Her eyebrows raised at the sight of us, face flushing with embarrassment. I bolted up from my comfortable position with my mouth clamped shut. The fact that we were just talking about her and she was now standing right before me made me feel a bit queasy.

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I was looking for Freya. We’re playing a little game of hide and seek…”

Camila paused, continuously twisting her body in place as she stood in my doorway with her hands linked behind her back. She looked around the room and up at the ceiling, seemingly taking it all in as if she were in a museum. She looked so cute in the black dress she was wearing, and her hair was curled just like it was the day we first met in person. I took this time of awkward silence to admire that.

“She’s not in here, is she?”

My mouth was completely dry. Camila fixed me with her eyes and all I could do was beam at her and laugh intermittently like an idiot. I’d just all of the sudden became speechless.

“No, Camila, I don’t think she’s in here,” Dinah answered for me, playfully rolling her eyes.

“Oh, alright. You okay, Lauren?”

I stared at her blankly for quite a while before coming back down to earth. “I’m fine. You should probably go find Freya.”

She smiled at me and left the room.

Dinah rushed over and dove onto the bed next to me, squealing obnoxiously. “She is so sweet to you. She treats you like you’re a baby. That is so fucking adorable, Lauren! By the way, she’s totally into. It’s all in her eyes, I swear!”

Sighing at Dinah’s enthusiasm, I ran a hand through my hair and soon covered my own face. “Yeah? Well I don’t see it. She just really cares for me a lot. She’s a good friend.”

“Noooo,” Dinah whined in protest. “Listen, Camila is only nice and friendly to people to a certain extent, to a certain line. She is way over that line when it comes to you. And I can see it now, you’re growing attached to her – ”

“I am not growing attached to her,” I interjected. “And I’ve got one question for you that I’ve been meaning to ask. Why the hell did you lie to me about her being pretty Saturday?”

“I didn’t want you to over-think it and be nervous when you met her, which is what you would have done if I told you she was attractive. I know you, you’re a nervous dork sometimes, especially lately. Thinking she wasn’t all that, you went right in without a clue and it turned out good apparently because she’s living with you.”

My eyes narrowed. “I was caught off guard a little, but she kinda made my palms sweat. When we started talking I realized that she was really dorky and not intimidating in the least.”

Dinah gasped. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“I’m going to smother myself.”

“It’s a simple question,” she pried, laughing, impatiently nudging my side and poking my stomach.

“I’m trying not to,” I whispered, hesitating my words. “But she’s breathtaking and so pretty.”

“She  _is_ , but I’m prettier.”

I turned to look at Dinah, a cheeky grin inevitably spreading across my face. “You’re the prettiest girl in the world, and you’ll always be my one and only, Dinah Jane.”

She flicked her wild, wavy mane off her shoulder and smiled confidently. “I know. You don’t have to tell me,” she joked, smirking. Dinah laid her head on my shoulder and we both broke out into laughter.

My body began to feel tingly and warm the longer I laid there. As time went on, I noticed how easy it was for me to drift off into wonderland. My eyelids all of the sudden became heavy because I longed for slumber, but at the same time I wanted to talk and talk about my feelings and have intellectual conversations about stupid things that didn’t even matter. I was staring off into space, mesmerized by the patterns on the ceiling and the colors of all the old posters on the wall. Meanwhile, Dinah was going on about something, giving me some encouraging words by stating that she’d be there for me always.

When she finally stopped talking, I started rambling about Camila again. It wasn’t something I could control. She was just on my mind and I had to voice these thoughts to someone, because I literally wasn’t capable of keeping these thoughts in my head at the moment.

“Were you even listening to a word I said?”

“Yes, I heard you,” I responded tersely. “You know I don’t like it when people show me pity or sympathy. I’d just rather not talk about sympathy and discuss something that actually makes me happy, or remotely close to it.”

“And talking about Camila does that?” Dinah inquired and did a little pouty thing with her bottom lip.

“I guess so. The other night we fell asleep watching old 90s cartoons,” I paused and laughed lightly “and she was laying her head on my shoulder at one point, but then she put her face to my neck while asleep and I could hear her quiet snores… I could feel the air from her nostrils against my neck – ”

Dinah shot up instantly, looking at me in disbelief.

Surprised by her actions, I sat up on my elbows with a look of confusion written all over my face. “What the fuck is your problem? Oh my god, is there a spider behind me?”

“No, idiot. It’s just that you’re so infatuated with her…” She tilted her head to the side. “It’s kinda adorable.”

“I am not. She’s just my roommate who I happen to find extremely beautiful, and besides all I could ever see us as is friends anyway.”

She rolled her eyes. “ _Right_.”

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, Dinah,” I said truthfully. “Yes, she’s funny, quirky and beautiful, but I like our instant connection, the close friendship we have, and I don’t want to ruin it with my stupid feelings. I’m pretty sure she’s straight anyways.”

“What makes you so sure?”

My stomach dropped. “What makes you ask that goddamn stupid question with that sly look on your face? Don’t play with me here on this one, Dinah.”

Dinah smiled crookedly, glancing downward. “I don’t know. I was just messing around…” she trailed off slowly, sounding as if she were choosing her words carefully. “But um, you never know?”

She was very subtly hinting at something. I could hear uncertainty and uneasiness underlying her seemingly composed words.

I gazed at her with narrowing eyes and began shaking my head, confused and skeptical. “I don’t think I wanna know. It’s probably better if I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t want to ruin this friendship with what I feel and make things weird between us.”

When I started pounding myself in the forehead with my fist, I received an odd look from Dinah. She grabbed my wrist to stop me and lightly petted my head. It was a shitty attempt at comforting me, but I appreciated it.

“Well then, if you don’t want things to get weird between you two you should probably stop looking like that when you talk to her or about her.”

“Stop looking like what?”

“Your face softens, so do your eyes, and you always coyly bow your head when she approaches you, even if it’s for the smallest second; you do it. You also clench your jaw, really tight by the looks of it.”

_Damn, she’s good._

I crawled out of bed with a sigh and wearily headed for the door. “Not everyone is so speculative.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right. But if you ever want to talk about her nonstop endlessly like you always do when you find a girl you like, I’m right here to listen.” I could hear the smile in her voice – I knew she was beaming.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

The conversations downstairs amplified the moment I cracked the door opened. My grip tightened on the doorknob as a groan slipped past my lips. I pressed my head to the door, banging my head against it repeatedly. I wasn’t ready to go out and face everyone after going all antisocial and hiding up in my room for an hour and thirty minutes. I just wanted to find Camila and leave.

My pupils were like pinpoints, I was sure of it.

I turned to Dinah, my back flat up against the door. “Do I look like I’m under the influence? Camila doesn’t really…like that…” I trailed off.

As Dinah got off the bed, she studied me, her eyes trailing me up and down. “Your eyes, Lauren. And your balance was kinda off when you got up a minute ago…”

“Alright,” I breathed, fixing my clothes and hair. “I’m walking fine now. I’ll be good.”

When I looked up at Dinah she had her arms crossed and was giving me a look I couldn’t decipher.

“What is it?”

“I don’t like that either, you know? But I suppose what Camila thinks really, really matters, right?”

My gaze hardened. “This is the last time, okay? I promise. This was a hard day for me – I needed something to help me unwind.”

Dinah nodded, the look of disapproval on her face still unmoving. I patted her shoulder in an assuring manner and guided her out of the room. We walked downstairs to see that most people had left already, but there was still a great number of my friends and family present. Camila was seated on the couch next to Normani, engaged in a conversation about who knows what. Ally had Freya on her lap next to her son Tate – the two were bonding, getting along fairly well.

I fell on the couch by Normani, laughing and apologizing for bringing disruption to their conversation. It was pretty obvious that the apology was insincere, but I didn’t care; neither did they. Camila did glance over and smile sheepishly though. I never knew what she had to be so shy about, but it was cute. I was sprawled out on the couch in between Ally and Normani, finally not sitting next to Camila for once. Maybe distancing myself from her was what I needed to do – so the small feelings I had for her didn’t manifest into something crazy.

“Hey aunt Lauren!” Freya exclaimed right before diving on me. She actually leaped from Ally’s lap to mine and clung to me like a little monkey.

I groaned lightly and peeled my eyes open to look at her. “Heyo,” I singsonged, smiling at the perky child. “You feeling alright, hmm?”

The corners of her mouth drooped all of the sudden, and she hung her head with a frown. Before she could say something that was bound to make me bawl in front of everyone, I put an arm around her and drew her in for a hug. Seeing her crumble a bit at me simply asking if she were okay was already enough to make my heart sink.

Freya stretched out and laid on my chest, snaking her arms around my neck. I hardly ever spent time with my niece, because kids were too exhausting for me, and I think the only reason why Freya was fond of me was because of my car. For a long time she referred to me as “the lady who can take the roof off of her car” because of that one time in the summer when I took her to get ice cream in my jeep with the top down. It was a one time kind of thing that Chris had talked me into. He claimed that I needed to spend more time with her so she’d actually know I was related to her.

She was so amazed and bursting with excitement because apparently she’d never seen a convertible before. I figured I’d have to take her for a ride in it again sometime soon, just to cheer her up. Normally I wouldn’t have bothered to do such a thing, but she was my niece, and she was only five years old dealing with the loss of her parents. At this point, despite the fact that she was an annoying, perky little monster, I would have done anything for her.

“Someone’s a bit tired,” said Camila, reaching over to bump my knee with her fist.

“ _Someone’s_ also ready to leave. You drove here, remember?” I muttered groggily. “So yeah, I’m waiting on you.” I glanced from her to Normani. “But take your time, I’m not rushing you. Freya seems comfortable – I’m comfortable, so I can just crash right here.”

Camila shot me a brief look of incredulity, biting back a frivolous smile. “You’re so contradicting.”

I merely scoffed. “Look at you, using big words. Blah, blah – spell contradicting without stuttering.”

She appeared taken aback, yet slightly amused. Camila bore a hole into my eyes, and I stared back into those captivating, chocolate orbs with all the composure in the world. Everyone else in the room didn’t even seem to exist at the moment. I wasn’t quite sure why we did that so often, but it quickly became our thing. I suppose it was some game we played to see who would look away first. Playing this seemingly pointless game with her made me feel like a kid. I liked acting like a seven year old when she was around.

“I do not need to prove to you that I can spell, and before you go denying things, you  _are_  contradicting. You said you were ready to go, and then you told me to take my time, claiming that you weren’t rushing me,” Camila sneered.

Moistening my lips, I sat up straight to face Camila and mindlessly sat Freya on Normani’s lap. “Well, I apologize for being so “contradicting”. Next time I’ll be more straightforward, or whatever.”

“So, you’re ready to leave?”

“…Yeah, are you done talking?”

Camila seemed to give my question some thought for a second, then turned to look at Normani again without another word to me.

_What in the hell?_

She said her goodbyes to the girls and while she did that I reluctantly went on a hunt for Taylor, Dad and my other family members to bid them all a goodbye as well. On the way out of the kitchen area I grabbed two mini sandwiches and crammed one in my mouth. By the time I got back to the living area in search for Camila she was already standing at the front door waiting on me. Dinah, Normani and Ally all walked out of the door with us.

There were a few people outside conversing in the yard, on the porch. Siope, Troy and a few other guys were socializing together. Luis, my ex from high school was one guy in the crowd who stuck out to me. I didn’t recall seeing him at the funeral, but then again I could barely recall anything from the funeral. He was a good friend of Chris’, but ever since our breakup back in senior year I tried my best to steer clear of him. Luis was a great guy and all, but he didn’t seem to understand the whole “I am not into guys” thing, even after seven years of me turning him down countless times.

Even now he was looking at me like he wanted to come over and talk, but he didn’t. It’d be nice if he showed me some condolences, because you know, my brother did just fucking die. The fact that he just stared as I walked to Camila’s car would have made me livid if I weren’t miss sunshine at the moment, but I just brushed it off at strutted with my eyes straight ahead. I didn’t want to hear his voice anyways, so I was feeling thankful.

Dinah informed me of how she was going to come over later and stay the night with me. This would be her third night in a row, but I enjoyed her company. She kept me and Camila laughing, and kept the tragedy that was happening around me off my mind. I wasn’t looking forward to another night of her wiggling her eyebrows at me from across the room every time Camila touched or teased me though.

I gave Dinah a thumbs up, half a sandwich hanging out of my mouth as I got into the car. Camila got in, closed the door shut and looked up at the ceiling with a long sigh. I turned to observe her, absentmindedly watching her chest cave in and then back out with every breath she took.

“Are you alright?” I asked out of the blue, forcing myself to avert my eyes.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” She looked at me and smiled wearily.

“You and me both.”

“You seem to be in a better mood than before. That’s good – that makes me happy.”

“I’m in a better mood than before, yeah. Let’s bounce. There’s a spot on the couch with my name on it.”

Camila burst out laughing. “You’re funny. I’m pretty sure that spot is mine.”

I looked at her like she was crazy, hoping she was kidding.

“You’re talking about the side with the recliner where it sinks in a little and where you keep all of the pillows, right?”

“Right,” I confirmed stiffly.

“Yep. That spot is  _so_  mine.”

“Alright then.” I nodded slowly, a mischievous twinkle in my narrowing eyes. “We’ll see when we get there. Start the car up, miss.”

Camila stuck her tongue out at me, started the car and violently careened out of the driveway. Holding on tight to the door handle, I glanced at her with a devilish smirk, then back at the road. She rolled the windows down as far as they could go.

It was awfully sexy – the way her hair blew in the wind as she pushed 65. To her it was exhilarating because she never went past 55. With my body now facing the driver’s seat, I cheered her on, urging her to floor us to 75 – then 85 – then a courageous breakneck speed of 90. We kept on climbing up the speedometer from there, but she was too scared to hit 100. The wind was hitting me so hard that I felt like I was flying. I didn’t know why this was happening, or why were risking our lives to get home to that old, raggedy sofa that once belonged to my parents, but it was thrilling.

And she’d never looked so radiant than she did at this moment. Right now, she was my happiness. I’d only known her for little over a week, but it felt like decades. People say it isn’t safe to let others be the source of your happiness. It’s not healthy, they say. But I’d never been one to listen, and for some reason, I felt like things would be okay. I felt like Camila couldn’t possibly mess things up like everyone else I’d ever depended on did.

I felt like this happiness with her would last and that nothing could break it. But then again I was always feeling stupid things in my chest, I’d always get these dumb ideas and wild fantasies of what could be.

Maybe this wasn’t safe, who knows? I say fuck safety. What’s the fun in being cautious and careful like all of the other shitty people like me with fragile hearts? I wanted to be different from them. I didn’t want to be scared anymore. Being safe wouldn’t be so dramatic.

That’s boring. A bit uneventful, if you ask me, because who doesn’t like a little bit of drama?


	3. well, well, well...

When we got to the apartment complex I lunged out of the car, nearly stumbling over my own feet. I was bursting with energy and felt like I could run a marathon, yet at the same time if I took time to lay down I would fall asleep almost instantly.

I swung around while jogging backwards, flinging my arms out at my side. “First one to sit on the comfy side of the couch gets it for the rest of the week!” I shouted, turning back around to run at full speed into the building and up the stairs.

“No fair, I’m wearing really tight shoes and they hurt! You’re being unfair right now – stop running. At least let me catch up.”

“You sound like a baby.”

As I reached our floor, I faintly heard Camila’s feet quickly padding the stairs. I fished for my keys in the pockets of my black slacks, hastily pulling them out. My hands were shaking madly as I struggled to put the key in place. Meanwhile Camila’s footsteps were growing less distant, which meant she was close. I heard her whispering a whole litany of swears, and I found that hilarious because she rarely ever swore.

She appeared around the corner, and we immediately made eye contact.

“Hey asshole,” she panted through an innocent smile, leaning against the door frame at my side.

“Hey sunshine.”

When I finally got the door open Camila and I both went through at the same time, getting stuck side by side momentarily. I dashed into the apartment with a loud cackle, Camila right on my tail hooting and hollering for me to move. Right as I was about to leap for my sacred destination, she shoved me out of the way and lunged over the arm of the couch, hurriedly crawling to the other side. She soon stood up on the couch and began jumping, doing a little victory dance as I gaped at her in utter disbelief.

“You fucking pushed me!” I screamed indignantly.

Camila stopped laughing once she realized I was genuinely angry, collapsing to her knees. Pressing her lips together, she stared at me, astonished with wide eyes before looking off elsewhere as if thinking, “oh shit”.

“Well, you kinda did cheat by getting a head start…” she said, trailing off.

I took a deep breath and nodded continuously until I had myself convinced that she was _maybe somewhat kinda_ right. And it was just a couch.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. I showed no mercy for you and you showed no mercy for me. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s fair, I suppose. I apologize for screaming at you – I kinda lose it when I lose at something.”

She smiled real big in relief. “Wow. You’re so…competitive. You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were about to go haywire.”

“Startled my own self a bit.” I gave a brief laugh and slid my hands in my pockets, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Well, I get this side for a week but you can still sit here, right next to me.” Camila motioned for me to come over.

I walked forward and sat at the opposite end of the couch with my arms folded. Out the corner of my eye I could see her looking at me. I gave her a sidelong glance, biting my lip agitatedly. On her face was a tender half-smile, and she happily patted the spot next to her.

“You want me to sit there?” I asked above a whisper.

“If you want to. I’m gonna go change out of this dress, but first I want to give you a big ole hug to make you feel better since you’re grumpy about losing.” She grinned cheekily and ambushed me with a tight embrace as soon as I slid over.

I groaned as she rocked me from side to side. This girl really, really loved hugs. But I suppose it was okay because they were always great, and she was cuddly. She’d said that I was the cuddly one – the cuddliest person she’d ever hugged – when in reality she was.

Her hugs had a way of making me feel secure, like she’d always be there for me. And she smelled _so good,_ like cinnamon. All of the time.

"That dress looks nice on you by the way," I said brazenly.

Camila broke away at arms’ length and looked at me coyly. Obviously flattered, she averted her gaze downward and smiled as she brought me close to her once again.

"Thank you," she whispered, merely inches away from my ear.

I didn’t want to believe that she said thank you in a suggestive and seductive manner, but the feeling I got that surged through my body all because of the way her hot breath tickled my earlobe set me off a little. Okay, a lot.

So I grabbed her shoulders and put a gap between us by gently pushing her back.

“I feel better now.” I laughed, playfully ruffling her hair.

She was still smiling, resembling an adorable, innocent little puppy. I wondered if Camila was really as innocent and naive as she let on. And then all of the sudden this fleeting thought of kissing her crossed my mind.

There came a few knocks at the door right as she got up to go change. _Thank God._

I thought the knock sounded familiar, as I was able to differentiate certain sounds very well; knocks being one of them, but I couldn’t put a finger on this one. Camila casually sashayed through the house for the door, looking through the peephole before opening. I repositioned myself on the couch so that I was facing the door.

When it opened, my ex-girlfriend Lacey was standing on the other side. Her face momentarily scrunched up in confusion at the sight of Camila, eyes narrowing as they took in every detail of her from head to toe.

"What the hell?" I said to myself, mouth ajar.

“Um, hi,” Camila said in discomfort.

Lacey took a step back and tipped her chin in the air, which was something she did when she felt intimidated or threatened. Even from several feet away on the couch I could discern this strong jealousy coming from her. Still old, typical Lace. She hadn’t grown not one bit, and that wasn’t at all surprising to me.

She leered at Camila for the next few seconds, then suddenly her gaze landed on me when I stood to my feet by the couch. Lacey’s eyes that were a distinct powder blue lit up and she swiped her bangs to the side as an unfamiliar softness came over her entire expression.

Her face literally went from “w _ho are you and why are you here with my ex, I am going to fucking destroy you”_ to “ _oh my god, my baby. I haven’t seen you in so long!”_ , and truth be told I thought that was pathetic, yet absolutely mind-boggling.

“You have bangs now,” I said, shocked, not knowing what else to say as she gaped at me from across the room.

She looked like a whole new person, in a good way. Though it was difficult, I tried not to stare so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea; I certainly didn’t want her thinking I wanted her back. I honestly told myself I never wanted to see her again, which could have been possible because she moved back to Boca Raton after we broke up, but I should’ve known that the day she came to get her things wouldn’t be the last I’d see of her.

Neither of us were good at ending things. My brother had just died, and this was the perfect opportunity to come back into my life, even if for a little, so of course she was going to take it. _  
_

“Yeah, thought I’d do something different for awhile. What do you think?”

I took a deep breath, all the while taking in her new look. “I think you look nice.”

Camila, who had obviously felt the tension in the air shot me a look of curiosity with her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. It was then that I realized I hadn’t introduced anyone and knowing Camila she was probably feeling very uncomfortable and lost at the moment. In all honesty, I almost forgot she was even here. She quirked up her eyebrows at me and began to make her way out of the foyer area.

“Camila, this is my ex-girlfriend Lacey. Lacey, this is my roommate Camila,” I blurted.

My introduction certainly caught the attention of Camila. She spun around as Lacey stepped inside, an evident look of surprise on her face that she failed terribly at trying to hide. It quickly occurred to me that she didn’t know I was gay up until this very moment. I couldn’t believe Dinah never let that slip, of all the things she told Camila about me – she never told her I played for the other team?

Camila stood there appearing dumbfounded, then a wry grin played on her lips as she began to nod. “Hi, nice to meet you, Lacey.”

I thought making it clear to Lacey that Camila and I were friends would make the very little disgusted snarl on her upper lip go away, but it didn’t. For a brief second I felt the need to tell Lacey that nothing was going on between Camila and I, and that she had nothing to be jealous about, but then I was abruptly hit by the realization that there was no reason for me to do so. I didn’t have to explain things to Lacey if I didn’t want to, because we weren’t together at all. Even after all this time I was still so used to telling her things that would assuage her outrageous jealousy. This recognition lifted a huge burden off of my shoulders.

A simple aloof “hi” was all Lacey said to Camila. The look of indifference etched on her face vanished once she trained all of her attention on me again, and she gave me an innocent smile with the tilt of her head. Her red bangs hung over her eyelids, resting on her long, fluttering lashes. The color of her hair complimented her eyes so well – they always have.

I averted my gaze toward the floor and noticed that she was holding a container of sushi. I smiled heartily and emitted a light chuckle. “You brought me something?” I said lowly, nodding my head down at the plate.

“Oh, yeah.” Lacey snapped out of her daze, bowing her head in embarrassment. “The reason I’m here is because I heard about your brother, and I felt like maybe I would have felt out of place showing up to the funeral so I decided to stop by to show my condolences. I stopped by your father’s house but he said you’d just left, so here I am…”

When she finally looked back up, her pale cheeks were a light shade of pink, matching the color of her lips.

This entire scene felt very odd. Everything in the moment did. I wasn’t used to seeing a not-so-hostile Lacey.

On the very day of my mother’s funeral her and I were going through one of our weekly rough patches and she broke one of my most expensive cameras _that my mom had bought_ just to spite me during an argument. Seeing her showing condolences and being kind after all we put each other through left me stunned, and I wasn’t sure if I could trust her.

I slowly moistened my lips, searching her eyes and everything else for an indication of some kind of ulterior motive. There was nothing; no quirk in her body language that led me to believe she was up to no good – no underlying mischief in her eyes. Nothing. It was always rather easy to read Lacey, and if she were hiding something then she was doing a damn good job at keeping it concealed.

“That’s um – very nice of you,” I muttered.

“Yeah.” She beamed while handing over the sushi plate. “I also thought I’d bring you this to cheer you up. I still remember how you love sushi and thought it’d be nice.”

My eyes lit up. I scanned over the sushi, grinning in utter delight at the sight of California Rolls. “I am really going to enjoy this, Lacey. Thanks for being thoughtful, really. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome. I figured that would get you excited.”

I sat the plate down on the kitchen island and leisurely went back over to Lacey. She was looking around the place with her arms folded, staring off in reflection. Out the corner of my eye I could see Camila’s door crack open slightly at the end of the hall, her head half way out of it. I decided I was going to pretend that I didn’t see her. She was trying to get a look of what was going on without being noticed, but for the first time ever the door obnoxiously creaked. 

_Eeeeeek._

_Just her luck.  
_

Lacey instinctively turned to investigate the noise. I heard a few obscenities in undertone come from the end of the hall. All of the sudden the door slammed shut and Camila was no longer in view. Pursing my lips tight to avoid laughing, I looked down at my shoes.

“My god, she’s such a piece of work,” I said through laughter, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. “She’s hilarious. I don’t know what the hell she was doing.”

Lacey cocked her head to the side, squinting her eyes in confusion. “You’re living with _that?_ ”

I gulped. Something twisted in my chest at the sound of her speaking badly about Camila as if she was some kind of annoying pest. I didn’t like the feeling at all, so I frowned and said, “Hey, she’s not bad at all. She’s really cool, and funny, and I enjoy having her around.”

Lacey looked lost, almost like she’d just taken a slap to the face. “I apologize,” she said genuinely. “How are you taking Chris’ passing? Are you okay?”

Now it was my turn to pull a perplexed expression. I had never heard Lacey apologize that easily. That may have been the most mature thing I’d ever witnessed her do.

I shrugged and gave it her question some thought. “I’m doing alright. I mean I have my friends to keep my mind off of it, and Camila really helps me out with my emotions and things like that. It’s going to be hard not seeing him anymore, but life goes on, you know? I’ve learned from my mom’s death that it gets easier to bear as time goes on.”

She nodded, a painful grimace set on her face. “I’m really sorry, Lauren.” She brought me into a tight hug and rubbed my back comfortingly. “I know this must be weird for you, because we’ve been through a lot and we’ve done a lot of crazy, terrible things to each other. This is awkward for me too, but I just had to be here today and let you know that I still do care. It may be hard to believe that I even cared at all, but I did and I still do.”

I drew back from the hug at arms’ length, looking at her face. “Thanks a lot, Lace.”

Lacey looked at me expectantly, almost like she was hoping for me to say something else. I let go of her arms and backed away completely, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck.

“I should probably get going,” Lacey said flatly.

I opened the door for her and followed her out, stopping to lean against the door frame. I shoved my fists in my pockets as the hands of my pride covered my mouth and kept me silent. She was just about to round the corner when I finally told her to stop.

“I still care about you too, you know?” I let my head bump against the frame as I gave her an easy half-smile.

Lacey smugly nodded once as if she knew I’d come around and waved at me until she disappeared around the corner. I gnawed my bottom lip until the bitter taste of metallic flooded my mouth. _Why the fuck did I admit that? I don’t care about her – or do I? Who knows. But ow, because she’s a crazy, insecure bitch she probably thinks I still have feelings for her. It’s obvious she still has feelings for me. If looks could kill, there would be a murder scene in the apartment right now because of all the jealous glares Lacey shot Camila’s way. Why she showed up today, I don’t know. To show condolences, my ass. I sure as hell wouldn’t have if it were the other way around. Who the hell does that?  
_

“That ex-girlfriend of yours is…interesting.”

I jumped at the sound of Camila’s voice. Turning around to face her, I shut the door and leaned back against it with a sigh.

“Yeah, something like that,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Camila was now in a t-shirt and sweatpants, which reminded me of how I needed to get out of these uncomfortable funeral clothes as well. I stepped past her and headed for my bedroom, hoping my last reply was the end of our Lacey discussion. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. For some reason, she wanted to keep pressing on.

“She’s also very pretty. If you were the one who screwed it up, then you screwed up big time,” she jested, giving my shoulder a light punch.

“Actually, I did screw up. A lot. And yes, she is pretty – pretty fucking psycho, so good riddance.”

“You know, my last boyfriend was pretty crazy as well…” she trailed off reflectively, dragging her tongue along her bottom lip. “I mean he was a good person, but he was just really, really clingy and kind of controlling.”

_Boyfriend. Oh, okay._

“Clingy? Even too clingy for _you?_ ” I teased.

Camila merely smiled and said, “Yes, and you didn’t let me finish; that’s not the crazy part. After I broke up with him he would stalk me. The guy was so obsessed that he didn’t know how to let go. Eventually the stalking stopped though and I haven’t seen him since.”

I burst out laughing, taking Camila by surprise. I don’t know why, but the thought of some guy stalking Camila and her acting all dodgy was pretty darn hilarious. She didn’t seem to think it was all that amusing, though.

“That’s sketchy as fuck.”

“I know. Tell me about it. I seriously can’t remember the last time I was ever in a decent relationship for a long period of time. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”

I ambled toward the kitchen island and opened up the container of sushi as I took a seat at one of the bar stools. Might as well.

“Hey, it’s not that sad. It’s alright. Same here. I’ve been with a lot of girls. I don’t think any of them have stalked me though, which amazes me now that I think of it.”

“Just consider yourself lucky I guess.”

Camila sat next to me at the bar and started spinning from side to side in her seat, all the while watching me eat with a grossed out frown marring her features. Apparently she wasn’t a fan of sushi.

All of this talk about her previous boyfriend made me wonder about a few asinine things – like what it was like to love her that way, or what it would be like to lose her like that poor guy did. He probably went off the deep end because he treasured her, then he lost her. How could someone _not_ treasure a person like Camila? How could someone _not_ be torn in two at the hard reality of the fact that she’d no longer be around anymore? These stupid in-depth thoughts were a result of the narcotics I’d taken earlier, and now I was about to voice these thoughts and possibly say something I’d either regret or be terribly embarrassed by.

“Well, not saying that I condone stalking, but I don’t really blame him for not wanting to let go of you,” I said, mouth full of sushi.

Camila didn’t say anything, and I decided to keep looking forward to avoid any awkward eye contact, but watched her in my peripheral. She just stared at me for the longest time in wonder, her laugh lines surfacing near the corners of her mouth. My jaw was locked tight, and I kept gulping nervously as I hung my head. This prolonged, drone out silence was killing me. I think she knew it was killing me, which is why she stared and remained quiet for so long. That seemed like a silly game Camila would play.

“And why do you say that?” she asked, smiling delightedly.

I nonchalantly shrugged, drowning the sushi on my plate with soy sauce. “I mean, you’re very beautiful. He was probably absolutely lovesick. I think you’d have that effect on someone.”

She laughed timidly, opening her mouth to speak but soon appearing speechless. “Thank you,” she said softly, her cheeks reddening. “Honestly, Lacey was a very lucky girl at one point. You always look stunning.”

Camila shoved my shoulder, allowing her hand to linger there a little longer than necessary.

_Shit._

In my mind, that was just another reason to touch me. Shy girls who were interested in me always pulled that one. _Maybe she – no, no, no. She doesn’t like you, dumbass. She’s just touchy, she’s stated that before. She knows I’m gay, and if she liked girls she would have said so by now._

I remained unfazed.

A devilish smirk made its way onto my face. “I’m afraid that’s you, Camila.”

“No, it’s you.”

Sighing, I clasped my hands together and said, “Yeah, trust me. I already know I look stunning everyday. I was just shitting you, trying to be cute and all.”

She scoffed. “You ruined the moment!”

I turned to face her in my seat, grinning all gawky and speechless. “We were having a moment?”

Camila smiled fondly. “It was something like a moment. Pretty sure you were flirting with me.”

I snorted. “Psh, flirting with you? I don’t flirt.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I just go right in. If I wanted you, trust me you’d know. All I have to do is look at you a certain way, and it’s over.”

Camila looked at me as if I were a joke. “Look at me a certain way?” she said skeptically.

“Yes. I have a seductive look that gets me everything I need. I could seduce with my words, but why talk when you can say everything you need to with your eyes? It’s much sexier, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Let me see it.”

My face flushed, and all I could do was laugh very loudly like a dumbass. “Ah, you’re funny.”

“I’m just kidding with you. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you blush. Wow, you’re getting so red…” She literally looked so amused by this.

“Shut up. You did this to me.”

For the next minute or so I struggled to keep my face covered as she grabbed at my wrists, laughing at me and constantly trying to move my hands.

“Lauren,” Camila called through giggles, right in front of my hidden face. “Let me see your face.”

“Noo, Camila. Jesus Christ, stop it,” I whined, slapping her hands and pushing her away from me.

I shoved the last piece of sushi in my mouth and made a dash for the fridge. To my surprise, Camila finally gave it a rest, and only because she appeared too weak from laughing to chase me. She was doubled over the bar, wheezing. I swear to God if she kept up these random flirtatious shenanigans, distancing myself from her was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

“I’m going to get out of these clothes, make love to this bottle of vodka, then take a nap. Have fun with that side of the couch that you won fair and square. I will see you later.” I hurried on out of the kitchen after grabbing the bottle from the fridge.

Just when I was about to close my door, she spoke.

“I thought you were going to watch TV with me.”

“Well I’m tired, so the only thing I want to watch is the back of my eyelids.”

“Are you actually tired or are you just mad at me for laughing at you?”

I peeked out of my door to see Camila right in my face. I instinctively took a step back, almost tripping over my own feet like a klutz. She forged closer with her arms folded, smiling at me slyly.

I halfheartedly matched her smile and said, “I’m actually tired.”

Camila’s gaze averted to the bottle of vodka in my hand, then back up at my eyes. Ah, dammit. It became pretty obvious what she was about to do next.

“Alright then,” she muttered, stealthily grabbing the bottle right out of my clutch. “Then simply go to sleep, Lauren.”

My eyes followed the vodka as it disappeared behind her back. She was a good person for doing that, really, and if I weren’t so exhausted I might have gotten upset. Without saying anything, I glanced down at her hands, then back up at her eyes with this weird snarl/smirk kind of thing playing on the edge of my lips for the longest.

“Don’t pour that down the sink,” I pleaded, my voice a low monotone.

“I’m not. I know how expensive this stuff can be. I wouldn’t do that.” She paused, and we had this odd kind of stare-down thing go on for awhile. “With that said, could you stop looking at me like you’re going to kill me in my sleep tonight?”

I sucked my bottom lip in between my teeth, not saying anything for a while. I just chuckled inwardly, getting a kick out of the puzzled look coming over her face. “Sorry. I had to mentally convince myself that what you’re doing is for the best and that I shouldn’t be angry with you, because you’re only helping me.”

Camila nodded, like a thousand times in a row. “Exactly. I’m glad you see that.”

She was looking at me like a stern mother, and I could tell that she really wanted the best for me. So even if I did somehow miraculously have the energy to get mad at her, I wouldn’t have.

“You’re amazing,” I murmured simply.

Her eyes lit up, but she only displayed a ghost of a smile. “I thought we were done flirting with one another.”

“No, I’m serious. Thank you, for all you’ve done this week.”

“What are friends for?”

I watched as she turned on her heel and made her way for the fridge. After she’d placed the bottle back in, she passed me, stuck her tongue out at me and then plopped down on what would be her side of the couch for the rest of the week.

_Right. Friends. I could be okay with that. For now._


	4. new days; old ways

I placed my hands on my ex girlfriend’s hipbones as I slid down her chest, my tongue grazing her pale, taut stomach. Lacey’s body tensed beneath me at what I presumed was the coldness of my hands, or maybe it was the way they set fire to her skin like hers did all over mine. Her legs were still shaking, breath hitching ever so slightly in sharp, quiet gasps of anticipation. I placed a soft kiss below her belly button before trailing my lips back up through the valley between her firm perky breasts. Lacey slowly entangled her legs with mine, tilting her head back more and more so I could devour every inch of her neck and bruise-ridden chest.

There was a heavy silence that didn’t exactly feel right, so I broke it with a few random giggles. She looked down and caught my gaze, pulling this awkward half-smile.

“You’re mighty quiet,” I murmured against her collarbones, smirking.

Lacey snickered as I glanced at the clock and hoisted myself off of her. “What am I supposed to say?” she smiled sheepishly and buried her face in the crook my neck.

She soon looked up and I could feel her crinkling nose and fluttering lashes on my cheek. These were the type of moments I missed about our relationship. These moments only if you wanted me to keep things PG-13.

“I don’t know. I think it’s unusual for you to be this quiet.” I combed my fingers through her wild, fiery hair.

“You’re just upset because this is the one time I haven’t flattered you after sex,” Lacey accused, rolling her eyes in a sassy manner.

My jaw slacked in surprise, and I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up word vomit, so I shut my mouth. She drew back and stared at me expectantly with those big bright eyes.

“Well, yeah I guess you’re right,” I said admittedly. “Lately you’ve been telling me how good it is, or how I beautiful I look on top of you or beneath you, or making some kind of strangely arousing noise, but today you’re quiet. I miss Loud Lacey.”

I pouted innocently.

Lacey flashed a brief grin just to taunt me, knowing that not getting my daily fix of an ego booster was like torture for me. “Do you really need that? I would think me telling you I almost died on the interstate speeding trying to get here would let you know enough.”

I sighed. “Yes, I know that you wanted me, but after we’re finished I want to know if you’re going to want me again.”

“Of course,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss me tenderly. “I’m always going to want you, you’re the best, you know that – ”

“Wait, excuse me. I don’t think I heard you. I’m the what now?” I jested, cupping a hand around my ear.

Lacey rolled her eyes at my immaturity. “Lauren.”

“I couldn’t hear you? What did you say? I turn you on by just looking at you? I make you scream so loud, what was that, Loud Lacey?”

“Shut up, and stop fucking calling me that, Lauren, I swear to God. I don’t know why you’re being so immature, and weren’t you the one yelling at me the other day, saying, ‘we’re not at your place, there are tenants who are going to complain about someone screaming during the middle of the day –’ blah, blah, you asshole.”

“Oh yeah, I did say that! And that was the day we got into that argument and you cracked the screen on my phone.” I glared at her, becoming pissed all over again by the memory.

“It was just a couple of days ago. How do you forget that?”

“I blocked it from my memory so I wouldn’t be so angry anymore, and now every time I look at the cracked phone screen I get pissed. Oh man, you really shouldn’t have reminded me, Lace – ” I reached back to grab my cell phone off the nightstand at my side and studied the defaced screen. “Yep, get out. Now.”

Lacey gaped at me in disbelief. “It was an accident,” she squeaked.

“What the hell did you think was going to happen when you _intentionally_ threw it across the room?”

“You have an Otterbox on it.”

That was when I lost it.

“Well regardless, when you chuck a phone across the room at a wall shit like that happens! An Otterbox can only handle so much!” I hollered indignantly.

She was still gaping at me, unaware of what to say. I shook my head in annoyance as I climbed out of bed and started digging through my dresser drawers for clothes. _One minute things are going slightly okay, then the next…it’s disastrous. I need to let go. I really need to let go. She is insane.  
_

“Yeah, it’s time for you to go anyway. I’m getting in the shower, so lock the bottom lock on your way out please.”

“Sure, okay,” Lacey said glumly.

For the next thirty minutes I indulged in a hot, steamy shower, almost as hot as the sex I’d just had. Lacey was a pain in the ass, but boy, was she dynamic. Although I loved having her here for one thing and one thing only, if she pulled a stunt like she did the other day again I knew I was going to have to stop myself from seeing her. It was a mistake to get involved with her again in the first place, and to be honest with you I don’t even know how the hell it happened. I mean, it kind of just happened really fast. So fast I didn’t see it coming.

She came back to the apartment a couple of days after the funeral and claimed that she came over to tell me that she worked at a sushi bar now, and had, of course, brought me more sushi. I was feeling pretty shitty that day and had been battling between the decision of drinking the rest of the alcohol I had in the fridge, or toughing it out instead of using alcohol to numb myself. Then another option came my way. Lacey.

I let her in, we started talking about life, and no one else was home but me so one thing quickly lead to another. Here I was four weeks later still screwing her. I didn’t know how to stop it, and part of me didn’t want to stop it. It was like one of those things that you told yourself you’d only do once but then it ended up turning into a bad habit. I hated bad habits. I’d had enough of those already, and the feeling after I did them felt much like the feeling I was experiencing now.

A mixture of guilt and pleasure. Somehow the guilt always overrode the pleasure, though. That’s how it always was, so no surprise.

Before stepping out of the shower, I wrung out all of the water from my hair. The mirror had a layer of fog over it and I made a circle with my balled up hand to see myself in it. As I began to dry myself, I suddenly stopped and did a double take in the mirror, touching over my face. I stared at my reflection for the longest, just making several silly faces. Then I said, “Damn, I look so good” as if I were talking about some hot girl who I had just watched walk past me at the store or something.

Now I know you’re probably thinking _what the hell,_ but I think I’ve mentioned before that I was in love with myself and a little too self-absorbed. No biggie. Right?

I sauntered out of the bathroom wearing nothing but an oversized flannel, leisurely drying my hair with a towel. At first I didn’t notice the lump underneath my sheets on my bed across the room, but then it suddenly squirmed, and sneezed. Huffing out a long, exasperated sigh, I stopped in my tracks and began to fasten the buttons up my shirt, expecting the lump to reveal itself.

“Lacey,” I called miserably, dragging out the last syllable of her name. “I thought I asked you to leave before I got in the shower.”

All of the sudden the comforter flew back and she appeared out of nowhere. She leaned back on the headboard, bringing the sheets up to her neck. Lacey opened her mouth to speak, but soon closed it at a lost for words. Her cheeks were the same color as her hair. She looked adorable, but I couldn’t think of that right now.

“I forgot how comfortable your bed was and as I laid here I guess I lost track of time?” she said innocently.

“Yes, it’s very comfortable. You know that. Too bad you only get to lay in it for two hours twice a week.” I impatiently motioned for her to get up, rushing over to her side.

Lacey let out a little laugh. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that. How about I start coming over every day of the week instead of just two?”

She rose up on her knees to wrap her arms around my neck, inching closer and closer to my face while doing this cute pleading pout and tilting her head from side to side. “There are some days when I really want you, and I contemplate calling you up and asking if we can go against the two day rule. Wanting you makes me _ache,”_ she hissed seductively.

She ran her fingers through my wet hair and drew me in for a kiss that sent shivers down my spine. I reciprocated, running my hands down her bare back all the way to her hips. Lacey opened her eyes to give me a sexy look as she tugged at my bottom lip with her teeth, pulling it out and then letting it go.

“Two days… _Really?_ ”

Chuckling to myself, I broke our distance reluctantly and linked my hands behind my neck. I released a big breath and blew out an exhausted “ _wooo”._ She was making me sweat.

“Lacey, I’ve been thinking as well, and I’ve decided that two days of your company is all I am capable of handling physically and emotionally,” I joked. “Unlike you, I can control my insane little hormones.”

I enjoyed having her over to fulfill my needs, but sometimes Lacey got too clingy for my liking. She stalled leaving, or often talked about how things were when we were together. And if I said or did anything she didn’t like, she’d ultimately flip shit.

“Really? As much as you love sex?”

I nodded. “Really. Now you’ve gotta get out of here.”

Lacey merely frowned, upset with my resistance – clearly she wasn’t used to hearing no from me. A naked redhead was normally too hard to resist because I knew not a thing of this self-control shit people speak of, but I was tired and Camila would be home any minute now, so I had to get my mind out of the gutter and shoo Lacey away. I couldn’t be thinking about my afternoon with Lacey while spending time with Camila. I didn’t like thinking about Lacey at all after we finished our business and departed.

She was merely a two hour blip of pleasure twice a week, and sometimes if she was lucky, thrice a week. Nothing more. And though this may sound immoral or sociopathic even, I liked it that way. I liked the fact that she meant nothing to me now. It made things a lot easier.

Well, kinda.

“Why are you always so determined to get me out of here before 6:30?” she questioned, and then gasped. “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

“What girl?”

“That ditzy roommate of yours.”

“She is not ditzy,” I snapped, stopping in the middle of getting dressed to glare at her coldly.

Lacey was taken aback, studying me with wide eyes. Now she was about to instigate something – I knew her too well. She saw that talking about Camila got me fired up, so why not egg it on a little more to see how hot I could get?

“Why are you so defensive when I talk about her? I bet you have something going on with her, don’t you? That’s why you don’t want her to know I come over. That’s kind of shitty, to both me and her, don’t you think?”

“There’s nothing going on between us. And why does it matter anyways? It’s not like we’re together again – this is just some casual bullshit that doesn’t mean a thing to me, Lacey.”

Disregarding everything, she sighed with the roll of her eyes and slid out of bed. “You’re such an idiot. You keep avoiding my question. Why do you not want her – ”

“Because you creep her the fuck out with your jealous death stares. She told me that not too long ago,” I interjected, walking straight out of the room.

I was hoping and hoping that that would be the end of this arising altercation, but I knew that it wouldn’t be. Lacey would never in a million years leave it at that – she just had to keep going and going with the argument. She loved to get under my skin, and I knew getting involved with her again was a terrible idea.

Camila did tell me that Lacey “gave her the creeps”, but in all honesty that wasn’t the only reason why I didn’t want them running into each other in the apartment.

I was starting to feel for Camila. Not just any kind of feels, but strong feels. Feels I’d never felt toward anyone before.

She and I had been having a lot of those things she called “moments” lately – where we stare into each others’ eyes longingly, or playfully flirt like kids in middle school, or sit really close together on the couch while watching old 90s cartoons. She was always around, always wanting to spend her time with me and vice versa. I’d also talked a lot of shit about Lacey to her just to let it all out; told her all of the vindictive things she’d ever done to me, all that I’d done to her.

If Camila found out Lacey and I were sleeping together she’d call me an idiot for being involved with someone like her again. And frankly, that’s what I was. A stark raving mad idiot.

“When have I had the time to _creep her out?_ I haven’t even seen her,” she asked from the room.

“When you stopped by on the day of the funeral.”

“That was like, a month ago. She’s such an idiot.” Lacey soon trotted into the kitchen to join me after getting her clothes on.

All of the sudden she made an attempt to seduce me by throwing herself at me once again.

I was looking through cabinets for a glass when she turned me around and attacked my neck with hard, sloppy kisses. Lacey grabbed my waist and pressed her body flush against mine, and I was so tempted to throw my head back and let her have at it, but fuck, what if Camila walked in on us? I didn’t know why I was so scared of that thought. Maybe it was because I liked her, a little too much – and maybe because I’d been having this fantasy that maybe she’d like me too.

I felt so childish and ridiculous thinking of this as my ex practically attacked me, so I stopped pondering and focused on what was really going on.

Lacey smelled of strawberries and pomegranate. The strong scent brought an avalanche of nostalgia over me that caused my knees to go weak. Whenever we were dating, the mixture of the two fragrances would linger in the air throughout the bathroom after one of her long, steamy showers. Nothing was better than that smell. Nothing was better than wrapping my arms around her from behind, moving her hair to the side and burying my face in her neck to inhale her…

Snapping out of my trance was hard, but I somehow managed. I glanced down as her fingers hooked in between my skin and the waistband of my sweatpants. She was just about pull them down and then I hurriedly eased to the side to get myself the hell out of this situation.

Lacey sighed in defeat – then gazed at me in curiosity, all the while straightening her clothes out. She was breathing heavily, and deep in her eyes I could see that she was mortified.

“Your eagerness is coming off as slightly pathetic,” I stated sullenly.

She rolled her eyes at me, snugly folding her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to be an asshole.”

“I’m not an asshole. I’m just very blunt about things. I know you kinda go crazy when someone tells you no, but deal with it and respect me when I say that I don’t want to do this with you again today. I’ll call you when you learn not to be so clingy and hardheaded, Lace.”

Lacey obviously didn’t like the sound of this. It was written all over her face.

“Okay. Well, next time you call me wanting to have sex, I won’t even answer at all and I certainly won’t come!” she yelled.

I winced at the unbearable shrillness of her voice, taking a few steps back. Once I gained all of my hearing back, I gave what she said some actual thought.

Shrugging carelessly, I said, “That could be taken two ways, do you realize that?”

A knock at the door grabbed my attention. All Lacey could do was gape at me in utter disgust, face a fiery red with rage. For the most part she seemed more angered by my remark than shocked. She probably expected something crass like that to come out of my mouth. She started mumbling a whole bunch of shit under her breath as she stormed down the hallway for the bathroom; Camila’s bathroom.

“For fuck sake, you have to get the hell out of here!”

I casually made my way to the door. Whoever was on the other side had been knocking for over a minute now, and I could tell from the way their knocks quickened and gradually grew louder that they were becoming impatient. Camila wouldn’t have knocked – she would’ve just used her key, so it couldn’t have been her.

When the door swung opened I was fairly surprised to see Taylor standing there with a look of horror on her face. Upon looking down, I saw Freya standing in front of her, only coming up to a little past my sister’s waist. She beamed up at me cutely, tugging at Taylor’s hands that were securely clasped over her ears.

“Aunt Lauren!” Freya jumped up and down excitedly.

I waved at her once with a light smile, then focused on Taylor who was looking pretty serious at the moment. _Wonder what the hell she’s going to bother me with today. And why the hell Freya is here on my doorstep in her pajamas with a suitcase… Oh, god._

“Do you know that you can hear absolutely everything that goes on in there, _out here_?” Taylor said, appalled.

I glanced back into the apartment to see Lacey scouting out my fridge for groceries. She was hurriedly wedging stuff in between her arms and chest. It then occurred to me that she’d probably taken some things out of Camila’s bathroom as well, maybe even her room.

The day after we broke up, she came to get her things and stole some of my belongings right in front of me, so I knew she started stealing things when angry with me. Why? I have no fucking idea.

To this day I still haven’t gotten my iPod back.

Turning back to Taylor, I forced a warm, delighted smile and said, “I forgot about that, actually. I usually don’t have to deal with _crazy screaming bitches anymore_.” I did a crescendo towards the end of my sentence, which I knew would get something out of Lacey, but I didn’t give a shit.

“You’re the one that’s the bitch, Lauren!” shouted Lacey, fired up all over again.

Taylor and I cringed at the sound of her voice. She still had her hands over Freya’s little ears, whom was down there squirming and moving all over the place trying to break free like a kid who had forgotten to take their meds. Meanwhile, Taylor was giving me this wide-eyed look of incredulity as I stood there maintaining a cool exterior as if there wasn’t a problem. I had a good grip on my composure, but on the inside I was about ready to explode.

“Is it going to be like this for the rest of the night? And is that Camila?”

“No, no, that’s not Camila. _Lacey_ was just leaving, but for some reason she doesn’t know how to get to the door and do the actual leaving part.”

Taylor stepped forward to peer into the apartment, then took a step back to give me that same look of disapproval that Camila would’ve given me if she were to find out. The familiar look that read: “I can’t believe you” and “you are so stupid” morphed into one.

“Lacey? I thought you two were over a long time ago?” she whispered dubiously.

I ashamedly set my gaze on the floor, chewing my bottom lip. “Yeah, let’s not talk about that. Why are you here? What is it?” My eyes flicked up at Freya because she poked my stomach for no reason at all and made a silly noise.

“Dad can’t keep Freya anymore.”

My brows raised at the statement. “Why is that?”

“He was “watching” her when she walked out of the house and almost got hit by a car trying to chase a cat. This makes the third time in the past month.”

“That’s crazy. Shouldn’t she know not to go in the street? What the fuck?”

“Language, Lauren. But yeah, I know, which is why I need you to take her for a little.”

I snorted derisively. “You can’t be serious,” I said through laughter. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I am. Do you think I’d come over here to joke with you?” Taylor’s solemn expression was immovable. She narrowed her eyes at me, obviously finding my amusement confusing and immature.

“Well, why can’t you watch her?”

“I’m in college, remember?” she reminded coldly through gritted teeth. “Take her and watch her. Be an adult for once.”

I glanced down at the chubby-faced five-year-old. She was tugging at Taylor’s wrists, making whiny complaints about being hungry. _No way,_ I thought. _No way in hell. This is huge. I can barely take care of myself. How the hell am I going to take care of a five-year-old?_

“No,” I protested with a strong sense of finality. “I’m not going to. I’ve been through enough for today. Just take her back to Dad’s.”

“Dad is not mentally well enough to take care of her. Think of someone other than yourself, Lauren. Freya doesn’t have anywhere else to go. You honestly don’t have a choice.”

My niece didn’t have her parents anymore. She knew that, and I knew that. Someone had to take care of her. I knew that from the day I learned Chris _and_ his wife were dead. It was always in the back of my mind. My dad would probably be going back to work soon, once his mental health got better. Then I’d be the only person here for her because Taylor lived on campus at the university, and the other side of Freya’s family lived all the way in Tennessee, I believe. They clearly wanted nothing to do with her.

I knew that this probably wouldn’t be a temporary thing. If Taylor brought her here today to drop her off, she wouldn’t ever come back to get her. Freya didn’t have anyone to rely on. She probably wasn’t aware of that, but I was. And even if I wasn’t ready to take something like this on, I would have to just do it. In that moment as I held back tears and looked into her innocent little eyes, I realized that I was her only hope.

It sucked that I had to think and get all emotional just for me to come up with the pity to say yes. Placing my hands on my hips, I swallowed hard and averted my gaze to the floor.

“Come on in, Freya.” I stepped to the side, allowing her to scurry in.

Taylor looked relieved. She handed me Freya’s pink roller suitcase that was crazily decorated with stickers of Disney princesses. On one side her name was sloppily scribbled on it in big black marker with an abundance of hearts around it. I carefully sat it down inside next to the fancy coat rack that no one ever used.

“Shouldn’t she be in school or something throughout the week? I don’t know what to do with her…”

“She’s missed about a week of school. Dad stopped taking her, I’m not sure why. He just got tired of doing it, I think.”

“Is he okay?” I inquired.

Taylor hesitated, not saying anything for quite some time. “I think he is. I just think keeping Freya is too much for him. His depression is getting bad again lately, but I don’t think he’ll do anything crazy. You know.”

“Of course you don’t think that. We all try to keep that thought out of our heads, but you never know. It could happen. I’m sure he’s thought of suicide, Taylor. Someone needs to check on him regularly… I’ll do it.”

“I will too,” she said airily, appearing downcast. “When I can.”

Taylor began to walk away. I looked back in search of Freya. She was sitting on the couch in front of the TV, trying to figure out how to work the remote. I wondered if some kind of instruction manual came with a kid. I didn’t know the first thing about kids. I’d only watched her once, and that was just for a day. It wasn’t nearly this difficult to think about because I knew at the end of the day Chris and Scarlet were there at home waiting on her. I knew that I could take her back home at any time. As of now, my apartment was her home.

Temporarily or not, it was her new home.

“Taylor, wait,” I called urgently.

She was almost around the corner, just about to go down the stairwell. “Yes?”

“What do I do with Freya? I don’t know what to do…”

She merely shrugged and said, “Think of it as a friend coming to stay over. A friend you have to watch constantly, make food for, dress, take to school, bathe and put to sleep.”

I shuffled in place with my hands in my pockets, slightly overwhelmed.“Well, that sounds rather difficult.”

“It is. This is life. Life’s difficult.”

“You’ve got that right.”

I closed the door shut and observed the apartment. Everything seemed okay with Freya so far. She’d found the Nick Jr. channel and was watching some whacky shit called _Team Umizoomi_. Smart kid.

Lacey, on the other hand, wasn’t in sight, but I heard some shuffling going on somewhere within the apartment. I had to get her out of here. For all I knew she could be plotting to burn the place down. Suddenly she came out of my room with a bunch of things in her arms, my camera I always used for my job being one of them. _Oh no, not again._

“Lacey,” I hissed in undertone, dashing across the room to catch her. She darted in the other direction once she saw me coming her way, but I eventually got a hold of her shoulders and kept her in place. “Lace, you need to leave. My niece is here and you can’t be screaming and acting psychotic in front of her. Please leave, and put my things down. What is wrong with you?”

Over on the couch Freya was watching us silently.

“Okay, I’ll put your things down.”

She immediately released everything and watched as it all fell to the floor, haphazardly scattering around all over the place. Lacey then pushed past me and left the apartment, slamming the door on her way out.

Clenching my jaw tight with rage, I stood there and took a deep breath. There were several little things of yogurt on the floor that she’d taken from the fridge, a tube of toothpaste, perfume bottles, my camera, t-shirts, my phone case – but not my phone – and a few pairs of shoes. I bet my room was trashed, too.

“Who was that?” Freya asked abruptly, leaning over the arm of the couch. She was fidgeting like a little worm, looking up at me eagerly.

“No one important.” I kicked everything on the floor to the side and picked up my camera to analyze it for any damages. Luckily, she didn’t crack the lens this time. That was something to be relieved and happy about, but I couldn’t feel it.

“She’s mean.”

I sat my camera on the kitchen island and chuckled at Freya’s remark. “Tell me about it.”

As I made my way over to her she watched my every move. I lowered myself into a squatting position so we could be face to face and studied her. She resembled Chris a lot – she had his smile, and his innocent doe-eyes. Her wavy chestnut brown hair fell a little past her shoulders. She kinda looked like me when I was her age.

“Listen, I don’t really like kids that much. I only like newborns – they’re tiny and somewhat manageable because they can’t run around, but you…you’re a little monster,” I said, sighing shortly after.

Freya merely tilted her head to the side, frowning at me. Suddenly she perked up as if something just came to mind. “I saw a monster under my bed once. It was purple,” she exclaimed, eyes twinkling with excitement. “He was big, and he was all slimy – he had pointy teeth, and he was there but mommy and daddy didn’t see him!”

I raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly at her story. “Interesting.”

“Am I going to stay here from now on?”

“Don’t know. It’s a possibility…” I trailed off, grimacing at the thought.

The front door opened and not too long after that Camila came through it with Chinese take-out. I’d been waiting on that food all day long, yet I still didn’t know what I was more excited about. The food’s arrival, or hers.

Freya caught my attention with a sharp gasp. “I think I know her,” she whispered.

I couldn’t help but grin.

“You do? You saw her at the funeral and at granddad’s house after it, right?”

“Yeah. You were holding her hand.” Freya paused to smile at me. “She played hide and seek with me. She’s really fun.”

“Why are you whispering?”

Freya giggled quietly. “I don’t know.”

I nipped her nose with my finger and smiled.

“Hey, speaking of hide and seek…how about we play right now? Go hide and I’ll find you.”

“Okay! No peeking!”

With my eyes covered I stood up straight and backed out of the way. I could hear her little feet padding across the hardwood floor in a hurry.

“No peeking!” she reiterated right as I uncovered my face. Freya greeted Camila and told her that she’d forgotten her name. Before Camila could say anything she’d already left the room.

I removed my hands and went over to Camila who had taken a seat at one of the bar stools. She had her elbows rested on the countertop, face propped up against her palm as she looked down at her phone.

It was then that I realized she hadn’t said a word to me at all. That was unusual.

“Rough day at the library?” I teased as I went through the bag of Chinese food, sitting down next to her.

Camila said nothing.

“Oh, really? That’s pretty immature, Camila.”

“Hmm?” She looked up at, appearing alarmed.

My eyebrows pulled together in concern. “I asked you a question and you ignored me. Going deaf?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just so wrapped up in what I was doing on my phone,” she explained.

“You were just staring at the screen –”

“I was thinking.” Camila flicked her hair off her shoulder and sat her phone down, now staring at the countertop.

“Well, excuse me.”

“I saw your ex leaving a minute ago. Was she here?”

This question sounded awfully shrewd.

Disregarding her little attitude, I tossed a piece of shrimp in my mouth with a pair of chopsticks and shrugged. She’d probably already put all of the pieces together. I figured she’d be disappointed, but jeez, who knew she’d act so grouchy just because I was communicating with my ex again. A month ago she wouldn’t have minded if Lacey and I were fornicating. At least I don’t think so.

“…She was.”

“Oh.” Camila paused, tightly pressing her lips together. “I was just wondering because I noticed something weird about her. Either she has a beige cardigan that has a rip on the left pocket just like mine does, or that is my cardigan…”

_That damn Lacey._

“Holy shit, I uh – think it might be. I swear I thought it was hers. She wore it right out of the place like it was, but you know what…she did try to go on a little stealing spree before leaving, so yeah it’s a good chance that that’s your cardigan. I apologize, I’ll get it back.”

Camila’s eyebrows slowly furrowed, lips parting in disbelief. I don’t think I’d ever seen such a disgruntled expression register on her face. Despite her look of disdain for the entire world – more specifically Lacey and I – she still looked relatively adorable. And I think her puppy-dog-like scowl was the only thing keeping me from taking her seriously.

“Well, that’s just fantastic, don’t you think?”

I continued to eat my chow mein, not responding to her poor sarcasm. She was watching me – I could see her out the corner of my eye. Her face was beginning to soften, and she had a longing gaze trained right on my profile. She was obviously unaware that I had very, very stellar peripheral vision. I was wondering what was up with her, what was going through her mind.

“Aunt Lauren!” Freya screamed to the top of her lungs from somewhere in the place, not sounding too pleased. “When are you going to come and find me?”

The kid almost gave me a heart attack. I forgot she was even here.

“I’m still looking! You must have found a good hiding place; can’t find you anywhere!”

I was hoping to get a laugh out of Camila, but she didn’t make a sound. When I looked her way she swiftly averted her eyes and adopted a pitiful expression that was a mixture of melancholy and abhorrence. Had Lacey given her the oh-so-contagious _bitch virus?_

I merely smiled, and inched closer to her face, using this time to take in her remarkable features up close. I knew that if she saw me smiling she’d have to crack one as well. She was aware of this too, which is why she didn’t dare shoot one glance in my direction. Her chocolate pools drifted across the room every-which-way, holding something sickening in them I couldn’t quite decipher.

As I watched and watched, I swear I saw one corner of her mouth twitch slightly. If only she knew smiling within this mess would make my day a whole lot better.

“You’re not even looking for her,” Camila muttered, lowering her eyes to look at me for a mere second.

A second was all my heart needed to go utterly erratic.

“She’s hiding, and she’s quiet. What more could anyone ask for when watching a child?” I chuckled inwardly, smiling so wide my cheeks began to ache.

Camila started rummaging through the bag of food. Still not the least bit amused, she pulled out a box of shrimp fried rice and said, “So, are you and her back together or something?”

I finally drew back to give her some space. She wasn’t going to loosen up or crack even the faintest smile, so why bother? Playing with my noodles, I focused on her question.

“Nah.”

“I hate that I’m asking so many questions, but I have another one for you. Why is our yogurt and a bunch of other random things all over the floor?”

I swallowed hard. “You see, it’s kind of a funny story. Lacey did it,” I mumbled.

“That’s not very funny. You know, if she came in and trashed the place, or tried to steal – she did all of those things, by the way, in case you haven’t noticed – you can call the police. She shouldn’t just come in uninvited like that, throwing things around because she’s angry you don’t want anything to do with her anymore.”

“That’s the problem, Camila. You see, I kinda did invite her in.”

“…Why?”

“We’re not back together, but…”

Camila folded her arms and turned to me expectantly. When I didn’t finish, she finished for me. “You’re sleeping with her? Classy.”

“Alright.” I chuckled dryly, pushing my food away. “How long has that pole been stuck up your ass?”

“You want to know something, Lauren? We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, not because we have to, but because we both genuinely want to, and the closer we get, the more I learn about you – the more stuff I dig up – ”

“Okay, okay. So, what the fuck is your point?”

“My point is that of all the things I’m learning about you, the one trait that stands out the most to me is your impulsiveness.”

I scoffed, and then looked back at her with an unfazed smirk. “My impulsiveness?”

“You do severely stupid things, then when the consequences come around you’re left looking like an idiot wondering why the consequences are happening in the first place,” she continued bitingly. “Lacey is a vindictive, manipulating psycho bitch; your own words. And now that I know you guys are sexing it up all day long, her ulterior motive that you were worried about is finally hitting me. She came here the day of your brother’s funeral to make a new impression, to get you curious. She knows you well enough to know that since you’re grieving your judgment would be a little bit more clouded, and that it wouldn’t take much persuasion to get you to sleep with her.”

_That actually sounds very likely. Why didn’t I think of that? Or did I think of that? Who knows. But wow, she’s so smart, and also very hot when in a frenzy – but I can’t believe her. She called me an idiot. She said I was impulsive – but she’s so perceptive and intelligent – so hot when she’s being all indignant. But so am I. And right now, I must be on fire._

“Is that your theory, huh? You want to know what I think about you, Camila? I think you’re a smartass whose always got a theory for something – always have something wise to say, whether it’s inspirational or down to earth, or just downright judgmental – you don’t give a shit, because you talk too much and you like to ruthlessly give your insight on everything.”

I bolted up to my feet, gathered all of my food together to put it in the bag and angrily stomped over to the fridge.

“Newsflash, you’re not all that fucking wise,” I added sharply, slamming several Capri Suns in the bag. Yes, I was about to lock myself in my room just to get away from her, as childish as that sounded.

In all honesty, we were a couple of kids. Or maybe that was just me – maybe Camila was the mature one. She didn’t utter a word to me after I lashed out on her. She shut up and ended it at her long monologue, and I could tell from the quivering of her lips that her throat was burning and aching due to all the foul words clogged up in that she desperately wanted to say. I certainly wasn’t the mature one, because if I was I would’ve left the kitchen without another word…but I didn’t, because I’m just a big, immature kid. And maybe I hadn’t changed at all.

“You know what I believe? The biggest mistake I’ve made as of late was believing you were a good person. You’re not, Cabello. You’re pretty goddamn shitty.”

Saying nothing more, I turned my back on her and went into my room. I shouted across the apartment, asking for Freya to come out of hiding because _“I give up on trying to find you”_. It turned out that she was in my bathroom hiding underneath the sink in one of the cabinets. I closed the door shut and locked it. Freya came rushing to my side with a look of triumph etched on her face.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, I said, “Good hiding spot. No wonder I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m the best at this game. No one can ever find me!” Freya raved, throwing her arms in the air in victory.

I tossed the bag onto my bed and began tossing all of the sheets and blankets on it around in search for the TV remote. Freya climbed on and started jumping, pretending my bed was a moonbounce. About a second later I noticed a pair of black lace underwear laying out in plain sight on the other side. And they weren’t mine.

_Dear God._

“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t jump on the bed, or sit on it either. Just stay completely away from it. How about we sit over in my chair, yeah? It’s really comfortable.” I hurriedly grabbed Freya before she could protest and carefully placed her on the floor, shooing her toward the chair.

She didn’t put up a fight. The remote to the TV was on the arm of my recliner all along, so I grabbed the bag of food and carried it over to her. Freya hopped onto my lap once I sat down, eagerly peeking in the bag.

“You hungry?” I asked, flipping through the channels. “Do you like Chinese?”

I looked to her for an answer to see her crinkling her nose in disgust, vigorously shaking her head no.

“My daddy told me that Chinese places cook cats and secretly give them to people. Why would anybody wanna eat a cat? I don’t.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh, man. I can’t believe Chris told you that. That’s not true, Freya.”

“It isn’t?”

“Nope.”

“…I still don’t wanna eat it.”

“Well…” I raided the bag a little more, discovering five sticks of string cheese. “Do you like these?”

Freya snatched them out of my hand immediately. I pulled out a Capri Sun as well and opened it for her. We decided that we wanted to watch recorded episodes of _Hey Arnold_ – well, I really decided, but Freya didn’t complain. She wasn’t nearly as whiny as I thought she’d be. Instead, she just asked questions. Lots, and lots of questions.

Most of the questions were about Camila, which was a bummer because I didn’t quite want to hear about her right now, but I didn’t want to be rude to Freya either. She didn’t mean any harm; she was just a curious five-year-old. A little too curious.

She asked why Camila lived with me. She even asked if Camila and I were married, and that came off as a big shock to me. She then asked me who was the lady here earlier that hurt my feelings. The fact that she was so perceptive enough to realize Lacey had hurt me made me smile. It also gave me the idea that Freya was a pretty smart kid.

I gave a short answer to every single one of her questions and ignored her whenever she pressed on until eventually she either shut up for a while, or asked a new question. It was a pretty tiring process to sit through.

“When I was hiding earlier, I heard you yelling. You sounded mad. Were you mad that you couldn’t find me or were you talking to Mila?”

She called Camila ‘Mila’, because saying the whole name was difficult for her.

“I was talking to Camila, but don’t worry, I don’t normally yell and such.”

“What did she do to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I blinked and averted my eyes from the television screen.

Freya stared up at me blankly, probably expecting me to speak again. When I didn’t she fidgeted around until she got comfortable and rested her head on my shoulder. She soon closed her eyes, emitting a small sigh. I placed my hand on her head and began stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

For the next three episodes, I couldn’t help but think about Camila, because this was usually what we did after work if we happened to be home at the same time. She’d shower, then come sit next to me on the sofa, usually smelling of cinnamon or some other strong, lovely scent and we’d talk about various things. I’d tell her about the weird ass family I did family portraits for earlier and she’d get jealous and upset because her job as a librarian wasn’t as interesting as mine.

I would urge her to tell me about the novel she was reading, because she was often reading a new one every three to five days. I read a lot when I was younger, but now I didn’t care too much for books. I’d listen to her regardless – I’d listen to her talk about anything, but I prefer it to be books, because she usually got really carried away with it. I loved the way her eyes sparkled when she described the premise of a book, or when she dramatically retold the climax, or read her favorite scene to me aloud. She seemed to become one with the story – one with the characters – one with the words on a page. It was incredible.

I finally cut off the television and stared at the blank screen in silence. Freya was fast asleep on my chest. There was this weird void I felt – this emptiness that was almost nauseating. It reminded me of how I felt every night coming back to an empty place before Camila became my roommate. It was so quiet, so lonesome and I fucking dreaded it terribly. Even with Freya laying here I felt like I was the only one in the house. All of the sudden I missed her questions, the curious look in her eyes, and the sound of someone’s voice.

I’d grown accustomed to having someone to talk with every night that this loneliness and silence was almost too much to bear. I snatched the remote up and turned the TV on once again. I gulped hard, feeling almost breathless as I put the sound up loud but not loud enough to wake Freya.

The background noise gave me a familiar sense of solace again, causing me to smile. I was able to think again, so I forced myself to reflect on all that Camila had said to me earlier. I needed to feel some kind of remorse for the things I said, but I couldn’t if I avoided thinking about it entirely. Even when I did think about it, I didn’t think she deserved to hear an apology.

Camila _did_ talk too much, she _did_ give her shitty insight on things too much, but when I really thought about it, she always spoke the truth. She didn’t like to sugarcoat things. Her opinions on me were never measly opinions. They were facts I’d been too stubborn to face, or too ignorant to acknowledge in the first place.

She knew I didn’t have it all together, and ever since day one she’d been going the extra mile to help me out. I shouldn’t need guidance – I shouldn’t have to depend on others to shape me into a better person; I should be able to do that on my own. Camila knew that herself, yet she helped anyway from the beginning. Why? I’m not sure, but I do know that she’s the last person I should be lashing out on.

All this time I thought I was becoming someone better. I hadn’t changed at all. Here I was again, hurting others with my words; hurting myself with my own stupid, impulsive actions. I couldn’t do Camila the same way I’d done Lacey. I couldn’t treat her like she was nothing and go about my day like that was fine. I couldn’t lose her as a friend.

After I getting up slowly, sure not to wake Freya, I laid her in the chair, straightened the recliner out and placed a blanket over her. She looked so fragile and at peace. The clock read 9:43. Hopefully she’d stay asleep for the rest of the night.

I eased on out of my room without a sound. The television was still blaring in the living area, and the comfy spot on the couch was empty, so I cut it off. Camila must have been in her room. Her food had been left sitting out on the counter partially untouched. It looked like she’d taken a few spoonfuls out of the box of rice and just abandoned it. Standing there in the middle of the kitchen, I placed my hands on my hips and stared off into oblivion. I was mentally preparing myself before going to knock on her door.

Nausea lingering in the pit of my stomach, I grabbed the small box of shrimp fried rice, a few packets of soy sauce and a spoon. I then cut through the apartment and rushed down the hall towards her room. I was going to go into this headlong, knock on her door confidently and apologize like the mature adult I desperately needed to be, _without puking_.

Hopefully.


	5. watch me fall deeper

A couple of minutes before actually knocking on Camila’s door, I stood there stalling, resting my head on the door frame in silence. There was the faint sound of music playing on the other side, so I quietly sang along until I came up with the courage to make my presence known, pressing my fingertips along the patterns of the white wooden door directly in front of my face. Why couldn’t she just make it easier and come out already? Why did I have to feel the need to apologize?

As these thoughts ambushed my brain, it soon occurred to me that Camila was right. She was so right about me. I’d done something impulsive, and here I was moping around the apartment wondering why this was happening in the first place.

She definitely needed an apology. _Tuck away your fear and pride, Jauregui. You’re goin’ in.  
_

I softly knocked and took a few steps back. Shuffling came from the other side, then small footsteps. When she finally opened the door, I was slouching like I had no desire to be there in front of her at all, but at least I looked apologetic. Well, I hoped I did.

Camila gave me a critical once-over and rolled her eyes a little.

“Hey, so I’ve realized something,” I mumbled, my voice hardly audible. “You are right and I am wrong, about everything I said. I am an impulsive idiot, and I’m sorry for lashing out on you. I really am, Camila. I didn’t mean any of it. You are an amazing person.”

Without a word, she stared at me, her face softening over time as she digested my apology. Camila bit her bottom lip, idly looking me up and down. She had a smug look on her face almost, like she knew I’d be coming in here to apologize because she just knew I couldn’t possibly ever be mean to a face like hers and think nothing of it ever again.

“You can be such a hothead,” she said, wagging her head from side to side.

“Me? That’s not true. I just got a little heated because Lacey had already made me angry. What about you, walking in giving people the silent treatment?”

She broke our gaze, still smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Not amused, I closed our distance and pushed the door open a little more before attempting to go inside. Camila abruptly placed her palm on my shoulder, stepping in front of me to push me back in my place.

I looked down at her hand in surprise, then back up at her. “Said that I was sorry a minute ago. I can’t come in?”

She pulled a genuinely confused expression. “You’re what? I didn’t ever hear the actual apology part.”

She heard me say it. I knew damn well that she had.

“I am sorry for being a bitch,” I said with reluctance, eyes clinging to hers intensely.

Camila smiled and tilted her chin higher in what seemed like triumph. She remained quiet for a while, but when she finally did make a sound, she said, “You have some kind of sauce on your face, Lauren. I’m not really sure what it is.”

I pinched my eyes shut and bowed my head. “Do you accept my apology, Camila?”

I was becoming impatient.

She grazed my cheek, right at the edge of my mouth with her thumb – that she’d previously licked – in an attempt to get whatever it was on my face to come off. I almost drew back sharply on instinct, but I didn’t want her to think I was repulsed by this gesture. Any normal person would have been, right? But we were friends. Close enough to wipe each others faces with our wet thumbs, apparently.

“Of course I do,” she answered softly. “You were upset. I understand. I’ve had worst said to me.” Camila turned on her heel and casually sashayed back into her room.

It took me a moment of silence to fully process what had just happened.

“Did you seriously just lick your thumb and wipe my face with it?”

She laughed awkwardly as she plopped down on her bed. “I’m sorry, is that too much? I was just trying to help.”

I shook my head quickly. “No, that’s fine… Um, I brought your food with me. I was thinking maybe if you don’t want it I can eat it for you?”

She sat cross legged and placed a pillow over her lap to rest her elbows on. “Oh, I’m gonna eat it. Hand it over.”

I reluctantly went inside and gave her the box of rice. She smiled up at me, sitting the box on her nightstand. Camila patted the spot in front of her, insisting that I sit. I didn’t feel like simply apologizing and leaving was the right thing to do and I didn’t think sitting on the bed with her would be necessary either, but why not?

“You seem a lot calmer now,” I said.

“I could say the same about you.”

We sat across from each other, staring at one another. She was looking at me like she wanted something. I smirked and sheepishly averted my eyes. A month ago this probably would have been uncomfortable and weird, but now it was the norm to gaze at her and make weird faces, or wiggle my eyebrows, or mimic her facial expressions. Camila would do the same, and to be honest I think it was just so she could gawk at me without it being obvious that she loved staring at my face. I didn’t wanna believe that though.

“You’re looking like you want to talk, but your lips aren’t moving, and you’re just staring at me…”

Camila buried her face in her hands and groaned. “I do. I want to continue our discussion from earlier and talk things out instead of just apologizing, but I’m scared you might flip out on me again and storm off. You can be so…intense sometimes. It’s kind of intimidating.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Go on. I won’t, promise. I’m sure whatever you’ll say is true anyways.”

She separated her fingers and peeped at me. “Sarcasm?”

“Not sarcasm.”

“I didn’t mean to sound judgmental when I was talking about you and Lacey. It’s your life and I think that if you want to have casual affairs or whatever with her that’s your business, not mine,” she said, trying to hide the fact that this disgusted her. It was all over her face though. “When I stated my opinion, it wasn’t my intention to make you angry. I shared my theory with you because I thought it would help you realize some things. I honestly just don’t want Lacey to hurt you again.”

Her last sentence resonated in my head and it played over and over again repeatedly. I placed my hand on her knee and nodded, smiling softly to let her know I knew where she was coming from. Camila unexpectedly put her hand over mine and gave it a light squeeze. I assumed she would release it shortly after, but she never did.

When we locked eyes, she searched mine as if she was afraid, and looked for the littlest trace of consent somewhere in my irises. I flipped over my palm and then we were holding hands, just like that. It felt weird, but right, and neither of us objected.

“I understand you,” I began vaguely. “My meltdown earlier was a prime example of my impulsiveness, and not to mention immaturity. I am everything that you said. I just don’t like hearing the harsh truth from people whose…opinion I care about a lot, and that’s why I snapped – I shouldn’t have snapped. I should have maintained my emotions and dealt with it maturely like you mentioned a couple weeks ago, but I – I don’t know.”

“You care about my opinion?”

“I value it. A lot.”

Camila came off as intent and eager to get as much out of me as she could, like always. She was one to listen to people when they talked. She liked to. She liked to know what was going on in someone’s head, and she’d told me she especially liked listening to me talk. She claimed that sometimes I held nothing back – that I was honest, sometimes even brutally. I didn’t think I was that honest. Maybe to her I was, though. Camila had a way of making people feel that they had no reason to hold anything bad.

“This is gonna sound stupid, but…” I stopped suddenly, lowering my gaze as I took a deep breath. “You kinda make me want to become a better person. You have since the day I met you. You’re kind of everything that I wish to be, but don’t make the effort to try and be. I haven’t changed like I’ve wanted and that makes me unhappy. I thought I did, but here I am fooling around with Lacey for the past three weeks or so. What am I getting out of that? Nothing much. I don’t know why I’m dealing with her again. She’s fucking mental – you say one wrong thing to her and she flies off the handle. In a way, we kinda make up the perfect storm. I treat her like shit, she treats me like shit. It’s all tumultuous and pointless – it’s kind of our thing, you know?”

“That’s not stupid at all,” Camila said solemnly. “Me making you want to become a better person.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, nervously rocking back and forth. “It’s not?”

“No. And no, in the long run you aren’t getting anything out of sleeping with Lacey. I think what you two have going on here shouldn’t be your thing. That’s not quite okay. Don’t you think you deserve someone better, someone decent? I do.”

“Why’s that? Why do you think I deserve better?”

“Everyone deserves the best things in life. You’re not a bad person. Your personality is golden…you are golden.” All of the sudden she smiled, and a fondness I’d never seen before pooled in her deep brown eyes. “I think you’re special, and I don’t think you’re a bad person, because the only reason why you think you’re bad is because you feel like you can never express love for people and you feel that you treat people poorly, especially the people whom you’ve dated. I see you express love and treat people nicely everyday. You love your family, you love your friends. You love Dinah, very much. I know you love her. Let me ask you this, why do you love her?”

“Because she’s nice, and she’s funny, and she always makes my day better and she cares for me deeply.”

“Exactly. You’re the type of person who wants to be cared about, the type who wants to be looked after. I think what you need is for someone to show you affection, and when they do show you that affection you just follow along. The reason why you could never find peace or actual feelings with Lacey is because she didn’t care enough, and she was shitty to you so you were shitty back, which isn’t really…logical, but hey, things happen. The only reason why you clung to her was because you were afraid of losing her, because you knew losing her meant being alone. But you’re never going to be alone now – you have your family, you have me and you have Dinah who’re always here supporting you. You don’t need Lacey. You need someone who is perfect and loving as you are and _can be_ , but not someone more perfect than you because you wouldn’t like that.”

She giggled, leaning forward to push my hair back on my head, running her fingers through it on the way down. I laughed quietly, and upon looking up from my lap I found myself studying her in awe.

“Do you read everyone like a book?” I asked, pulling a crooked smile.

Camila rested her elbows on her knees, sitting her chin in her hands. She stared straight ahead at me, holding something frivolous in her eyes, her mouth curving into a smile that was barely there.

“Only complex people. I enjoy figuring them out. It’s a challenge,” said Camila.

“And you like challenges?”

“I do. Why do you think I never get frustrated with you?”

“Well, you seemed pretty frustrated with me earlier…”

“I am very sorry about that by the way. That wasn’t exactly frustration – well, it was, but I was a little…jealous, I guess you could say.”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Jealous? Jealous of what? Jealous of Lacey and I? Jealous of Lacey?_ It seemed as if half way through her sentence was when she realized she had blurted out far too much. Camila had her lips pressed together as she broke our gaze, suddenly appearing uncomfortable. I became interested and of course, a sense of pride came over me, but I concealed my stupid pride for her sake because she genuinely looked embarrassed. I wanted to slap her shoulder, laugh right in her face and stupidly say, “You were _what?_ ”

But I couldn’t take things lightly at the moment. People were only jealous of someone when they wanted something they didn’t have that the other person _did_ have.

I gulped. “Jealousy? Well, why were you jealous?”

Camila shrugged, keeping her head down. “I don’t know. It was a dumb, fleeting feeling I got. We all get those feelings we can’t really explain, but they’re there…and they’re strong.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess so.”

All of the sudden she had her arms wrapped around me, forehead pressed to my chest. Unsure of what was happening, I slowly glided my arms over her lithe body and brought her closer and closer as time went on. It was a long, intimate hug. About a minute in when it felt like it was time to break away, she didn’t. Instead, Camila lifted her head and nuzzled her face upon mine. The scary thing was that I couldn’t tell if she was being playful or actually serious.

I didn’t know what was going to happen next. This was as close as her mouth had ever been to mine. I could feel the edge of her plump lips grazing my cheek, and they slowly formed into a smile.

My heart raced with anticipation and my head became fuzzy as every single possible scenario spun around in it within seconds. All the air in my lungs had long evaded, yet I felt so relaxed in her arms. If I just took deep breaths, closed my eyes and inhaled her scent, it felt as if the earth had stopped spinning and we were the only ones on the planet. That’s how I wanted it.

“I like hugging you,” Camila whispered.

I locked my jaw, inhaling deeply. “Tell me why.”

She drew back to look into my eyes, our faces only inches apart. She tilted her head to the side a bit, looking at me like I should know _why._ The weird thing is that I felt like I did. I felt like she was trying to speak to me with her eyes, and if her eyes could utter anything, they’d say something like “because I like being close to you” in the softest of voices.

Her forefinger began tracing along the outline of my face. We examined each others’ features thoroughly in silence without any emotion being displayed. Silence wasn’t so silent with her. Silence was comforting. Silence was everything it used to be. But what were we even doing? What was Camila doing?

What did all of this mean?

I scooted backward, grimacing in discomfort. Everything felt cold all of the sudden, and time began to move again. Camila’s cheeks reddened as she gaped at me. It seemed as if everything had just now dawned on her, like she was just now coming back to reality.

“I’m gonna go check on Freya – uh, she’s in my room,” I stated in a tense manner, stiffly climbing off the bed and sauntering for the door.

Camila sucked in her bottom lip, her eyebrows knitting together. She had averted her attention to a piece of loose string in her comforter. It was obvious that that was her way of trying to make the awkward vibe in the room easier to bear until I finally left.

“Is everything alright at your Dad’s house? You never got to tell me why Freya’s here.”

“Oh, my dad can’t really keep an eye on her anymore. And Taylor’s in college, so I don’t really have a choice. I think she’s going to be with us for awhile.”

“And you can handle that?” she said, looking at me skeptically.

I shrugged nonchalantly and chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out.”

In all honesty, I was actually very overwhelmed. Camila looked quite unsure herself.

“Goodnight Camila.”

“Lauren… I apologize for getting so close to you a minute ago. That was a bit weird, I’m sorry. I don’t even know – ”

Putting my hands up and motioning for her to take the angst level down a notch, I smiled easily. “You’re fine, honestly. Don’t think too much about it. Get some sleep tonight, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

I turned and headed out of the doorway. “Positive,” I said, closing the door shut behind me.

Perhaps I’d saved Camila a lot of thinking by saying what I’d just said. Hopefully I did. Hopefully, I wouldn’t think too much about her as I laid in bed tonight, or about what all of that face caressing, wide-eyed gazing nonsense meant. We’d been having our little moments, but none of them were like that – so breathtaking and _close._ Her touch had never been so tender. Hell, she had never touched me like that in the first place.

Perhaps it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing, and perhaps nonsense was exactly all it was. In spite of all that she’d said, I still thought I was pretty shitty and I didn’t want someone not so shitty to be interested in someone who was.

Camila was a good girl. I usually liked when the good girls had a thing for me, but frankly I didn’t want her wanting me. Because regardless of what good she somehow saw somewhere beyond this fucked up exterior, I wasn’t worthy of her at all.

When I got back to my room I scooped up Freya and took her to the living room. I figured the couch would be more comfortable for her and I didn’t want her sleeping in my bed until I at least washed the sheets. She awakened as I turned the television off and began to make a fuss about the dark, stating that she didn’t like sleeping without sound.

“Alright, alright,” I sighed.

Wearing a frown with her eyes barely open, Freya fidgeted around moaning and complaining about several things. _It was too cold in the house, or she was thirsty, or hungry, or she wanted to leave._

“I can’t sleep with this blanket,” she said, pulling on the sleeve of my shirt to get my attention. “Aunt Lauren! I want to sleep with my Frozen blanket and my panda, or I won’t sleep, ever.”

I sat the remote down on the coffee table with another sigh, reluctantly turning around to look at her. “Well, where is all this stuff you’re talking about?”

She angrily snatched the blanket that was draped over her off of her body and bolted up to go get her suitcase. She pulled out a fleece blanket with Anna and Elsa from Frozen on the front of it and the actual Frozen DVD, right along with a small panda plush toy, then hurriedly climbed back on the sofa.

“Your mom and dad give you all that for your birthday last month?”

Freya shook her head, a scowl still marring her little features. “My daddy got this for me a long time ago.” She held up the panda. “But I did get Frozen for my birthday. It’s my favorite movie…”

I forced a smile and said, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

She nudged me with the DVD, looking up to me expectantly.

“I want to watch Frozen. Will you watch it with me too?” she asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“I don’t think so, Freya. It’s kind of late and I’m tired. You should go back to sleep.” I turned the sound on the TV down and headed for my room.

“Aunt Lauren…please? Granddad did with me every night, so did my mommy and daddy.”

_Jeez. She must have given them hell._

Raking my hands through my hair in frustration, I spun around in the doorway of my room. “Fine, whatever. Let me get my laptop and we’ll watch it on that, okay?”

“Are you going to sleep in here with me?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“ _Pleaaasseeee?_ ” Freya pleaded, gradually getting louder. “I don’t like sleeping in a room by myself since mommy and daddy are gone!” She obnoxiously started dragging out “please” again.

“Shh! Shut up, shut up! Christ, I will. I’ll sleep in here with you, just calm down,” I said above her.

Freya abruptly stopped and grinned in satisfaction.

I gathered everything we would need. Blankets, a whole lot of pillows, snacks and my laptop. Freya and I bundled up together on the couch and got comfortable as the movie began. I was drifting in and out of sleep, but she kept me up with her ridiculous commentary, and of course she was singing along to the songs. Freya didn’t sound half that bad though; it’s just that she had a knack for screwing up nearly every lyric and replacing the right words with her own. It was hilarious to listen to, so I had a time trying not to laugh at her. She even got me to sing too by begging nonstop.

“You sing really pretty,” she said, looking up at me in what seemed like astonishment after the song _“For the First Time in Forever”_ ended.

I had kind of maybe gotten a little into it. Singing was something I did mindlessly and people would often tell me I had a great voice, which was always flattering. I, myself knew my voice was nice, but I never took it that seriously.

“That’s nice of you to say, kid. Thanks.”

“I wish I could sing like you. Am I good at singing?”

“Well sure you are. You have a beautiful voice.” My hand smoothed over her hair as she beamed excitedly. Freya laid her head in my lap and brought her blanket up to her neck.

About forty-five minutes into the movie she was out. When I moved her to the other end of the couch she woke out of her light slumber and shook her head no, clinging to me tightly. I attempted to shake her off to no avail while she whined on the verge of tears.

“I want to make sure you don’t leave me in here alone,” said Freya.

Her grip on me tightened and it was evident that she wasn’t going to let go. With her wrapped around me like a koala bear, I sighed and stretched out on the couch without a word. She released my neck and curled up in a little ball on top of me. Whenever I put my huge red blanket over us she made me take it off so she could put _her_ blanket over herself, and _then_ that was when I could spread out my blanket.

Ridiculous.

“Are you gonna make breakfast tomorrow?”

“Camila might. She does a little something in the kitchen every Saturday morning,” I replied, half asleep. “We also might go out tomorrow with my friend Dinah. Does that sound like fun?”

“Where are we going?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe down to the beach. Would you like that?”

“That sounds fun! I can’t wait!” Freya squealed.

“Well, the sooner you sleep, the sooner tomorrow comes.”

All of the sudden she gasped. “You are right.” She grabbed her panda and used its head as a pillow, holding it close. “Pablo says goodnight, Aunt Lauren.”

I groaned loudly. “Who the fu – I mean, uh, who’s Pablo?”

“My panda!”

“Oh, okay. Goodnight Pablo, goodnight Freya.”

Would I have to do this every night? If so, then I had a lot of adjustments to make, so many things I’d have to do differently now. Like be less reckless, and ease up on the potty mouth, and stop acting so childish. Freya didn’t need a big irresponsible kid watching over her. She needed an adult.

I had another person’s life to take into consideration now. She was a living, breathing human and she was laying here on top of me. Every time I glanced down at her while she slept, my stomach would sink and I’d feel slightly overwhelmed.

_Her parents are gone and for now, I’m basically all she’s got. This is one thing you can’t mess up, Lauren. This is crucial, this is real._

_So whatever you do, don’t fuck it up._

 


	6. moving forward

_“Ah, yes. Hellooo, how are you? Actually, I don’t care. I’ve called you four or five times or maybe like fifty times. I don’t know, but I’m kind of getting tired of you ignoring me, so could you please pick up? I don’t like leaving a thousand voice mails, but you know I’ll do it. Camila wants her fucking cardigan back, so either you bring it here or I’m coming to Boca to get it myself. Trust me, you don’t want that because Dinah is coming with me, and I can guarantee you she’ll probably go batshit crazy on you again like last time when we threatened to burn your parents’ house down last year. She’s already fired up. Right Dinah?!”_

“Yeah bitch!”

…

“ _Lacey, pick up the phone before I kill myself and call the cops. Not in that order, ‘cause that’s not possible, but you know what I mean. We need to talk about some serious shit.”_

…

“ _Hi, this is the ninth voice mail, I think, and you still haven’t called me back, so I’m just going to keep at it to annoy you. You know, this kind of reminds me of that scene from Mean Girls after the party where Damien, the gay guy, shouts out the window at Cady, “AND I WANT MY PINK SHIRT BACK!”. Well Camila wants her beige cardigan back. Like right now – hey, remember the first time we watched that movie together was on the night we had sex for the first time? We did it afterward when we got back to my place from your parents’ house, remember that? Speaking of sex, I don’t want to do that with you anymore. It’s good, but Camila says you don’t deserve to have me in any way and that I deserve a real relationship with someone who cares. I think she’s right. The moral of this story – I mean voice mail – is that you’re a piece of shit on the sidewalk and you need to give Camz her cardigan back. But you’re not bad at sex… At all.”_

“At this point you might need to take her phone away,” I heard Camila whisper to Dinah.

“You’re probably right.”

I was pacing the kitchen floors, frantically chewing my thumb nail. There was a sheen of sweat coating my forehead and a tired, achy feeling in my jaw from clenching it so hard. The sound of Dinah clicking her nails on the marble counter top was so sharp and clear, so sharp that I had to constantly fight the urge not to flip out on her for the incessant noise.

Her and Camila were both looking at me speculatively. Camila then stepped in front of me abruptly, pressing her hands to my shoulders to keep me from moving. My legs kept on marching in place, and she glanced down at them before looking back up at me as if I were crazy.

“Whoa, slow down a little. Lauren, it’s just a cardigan. You don’t have to go all haywire on Lacey just because she took it. I can just buy another one. You should be happy that she isn’t returning your calls,” said Camila.

My eyebrows slowly pulled together in a scowl. “No!” I hissed. “She’s stolen from me before and I did nothing. That’s not happening again.”

“Well, she didn’t steal from you this time. She stole something of mine, so please settle down, and my god, you’re eyes are about to bulge out of your head.”

I blinked my watery eyes and shook my head. A sudden rush of lightheadedness hit me hard, clouding my vision briefly.

“To me, if someone steals something of yours, that’s like stealing something of mine.”

Camila smiled faintly. Amused, Dinah shifted her gaze from the two of us, her eyes widening as they held that familiar twinkle. She had stopped eating her breakfast altogether to watch us like we were some form of entertainment

“AWW.” she hollered, and grinned real big.

Camila and I both sighed at Dinah’s reaction. I lifted the snapback off my head, ran my hands through my hair and then placed it back on backwards. Next then I know Camila is holding me from the side and gazing at me like I was a trophy she’d won.

"I know. Isn’t she just the best roommate ever?" She dug her knuckles into the top of my head, giving me a hard ass _noogie_ through my hat.

I threw an arm around her waist and tugged her closer against me, because it seemed necessary, and she didn’t mind. I smiled, almost drunkenly – at her, then at Dinah, and I felt so giddy with her next to me like this.

Camila crinkled her nose up at me, smiling with her eyes closed. When she opened them they held onto mine. Her chocolate pools were playful, but I felt in my gut that I was gazing at her like she was my long lost lover or something. So soon enough I’d have to look away, but my God, I was so captivated.

Dinah had to cough extra loud to get our attention. My jaw tightened as everything around me transitioned from pause to play.

“ _So,_ South Beach today, huh, Lolo?” Dinah said loudly, eyebrows raised.

Her loudness was her way of making a mockery out of me. She felt she had to speak louder to keep my attention because apparently when Camila was in the same room I had the attention span of a goldfish.

Absentmindedly pushing off Camila’s body, I pointed at Dinah and enthusiastically said, “That’s the fucking plan!”

“Why are you so loud?” Freya exclaimed as she entered the room. “And stop saying bad words!”

“Right?” Camila said under her breath, casually going back to whatever she was doing. Dishes, I believe.

Dinah matched Freya’s frown. “Someone’s not a morning person.”

Freya climbed up on the bar stool and sat next to Dinah. She glumly rested her elbows on the counter and hung her head. Her black and white kitty cat shirt was on backwards _and_ inside-out - yet her red shorts were on perfectly fine - and apparently Dinah had noticed tag of the shirt on the outside as well, because she started snickering at the sight of the child. I’d told her to go get dressed about fifteen minutes ago because I thought she could handle doing that on her own.

Evidently not.

“Freya, isn’t that sweater supposed to have kitty cats on it?”

She glared at me, then down at the shirt curiously. “I think so.”

“Well, do you know why you can’t see them?”

“Because it’s not on the right way. I didn’t feel like putting it on right. I don’t care.”

I chuckled. “You can’t go out like that. You’ll look dumb. I mean, not dumb, but you can clearly see that – ”

“Yes I can,” she broke in defiantly. “I can do what I want.”

Feeling somewhat defeated, I exchanged brisk, confused looks with Camila and Dinah, and then hesitantly put my hands up in surrender. I don’t know why I was expecting for one of them to back me up here. Of course they didn’t though.

Honestly, just screw it. If she wanted to wear the shirt backwards and inside-out I couldn’t stop her. Well, I could…but I’d witnessed a few of Freya’s temper tantrums in the past. I didn’t know if she still did that, but to be honest with you I didn’t want to find out.

Camila pulled Freya’s plate of breakfast out of the microwave and sat it in front of her. Her eyes lit up at the sight of bacon and she no longer wore a frown. That just goes to show how happy bacon can make a person.

“You guys, Lacey still hasn’t replied to anything,” I stated.

“I told you to just forget about it.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket, only to have Dinah stealthily confiscate it right before my eyes merely seconds after. Whirling around to face her, I indignantly bellowed out her name. I couldn’t believe she’d be siding with Camila at a time like this. I was pumped and ready to go; eager to leave another threatening message before ambushing Lacey at her own house.

Dinah nonchalantly sat her plate in the sink, paying me no mind.

“Dude, what the hell? Stop joking around and give me my phone.” I watched as she slid it into her pocket and released a weary sigh.

“Lauren, why are you so jittery and anxious today?” Camila said, studying me with a blank look on her face. She was now leaning over the counter on her arms, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Anxious?” I cackled, gazing wildly from her to Dinah. “I’m not anxious. Just excited to get the day started, that’s all. I had a lot of coffee earlier. Coffee rush.”

Out the corner of my eye I saw Dinah glance over at the coffeemaker that hadn’t been touched all morning. She noted that there was nothing in the pot, nor any kind of trace of coffee and made a face. Camila, for the most part, seemed convinced.

“It really sucks that I can’t go out with you guys today,” she began woefully.

“You have your cousin’s birthday party today. He’s turning eighteen,” I blurted, grinning. “Yeah, I listen when you talk.”

Camila smiled, but squinted at me in confusion. “I listen when you talk too, weirdo.”

“Well uh, I’m going to miss you today.”

“I’ll be there with you guys in spirit.”

She gathered her things together and hurried on toward the door. Before going out she looked to me with smiling eyes and said goodbye to Freya and Dinah. I chugged down the rest of my water, all the while waving with my free hand and mumbling nonsense that no one was able to understand.

“Thanks for making breakfast, even though I didn’t eat any!”

“You’re welcome, and that’s fine. Knowing you, you’ll probably eat it at midnight tonight,” she said, giggling intermittently.

I bent forward laughing with my arms hugging my stomach, nodding knowingly. She said something about me being silly and then I heard the sound of the door closing. Right after Camila left, there was a lonely silence in the apartment. It was almost haunting. Or maybe it wasn’t as silent as I thought. I was kind of in my own little world as I slouched in the middle of the living area, a dazed smile still lingering at the corner of my mouth.

All of the sudden, sound flooded back in out of nowhere and I could hear Dinah impatiently calling my name; the _clank clank_ of Freya’s fork as she finished up eating and the cartoons blaring on the television behind me.

“Lauren? Earth to Lauren…” Dinah teased, now waving her hand in front of my face.

Still in a trance, I lazily swatted at it and quietly said, “I want to kiss her, so badly. And other things – ”

“Uh uh.” She looked disgusted. “Do not go into detail, you little nasty.”

“I wasn’t going to say much. It’s not even like that with her. I just want to hug her until she gets tired of being hugged.”

“You look absolutely high. Twitchy.”

I immediately shook my head in protest, but it was no use denying it. Dinah knew me well and if anyone could spot when I was under the influence, it was always her for sure.

She narrowed her eyes at me as I repeatedly tapped my foot and bobbed my head to the imaginary playlist I had playing in my head. Then, before I knew it I was being manhandled out of the kitchen and into my room. Dinah had me caught by the arm, and I honestly felt like a child being dragged into a secluded room by a strict parent for some painful discipline. In this case, all I was going to get was a lecture and that look of disappointment I was used to receiving from everyone.

I would rather have Dinah punch me in stomach a thousand times as hard as she could than have her to give me that look. No lie.

“I thought you stopped with that kind of thing? Didn’t you tell Mila and I that you threw away the pills that you had?” Dinah hissed.

I nodded, intently gazing at her with my brows furrowed while digesting everything she had to say before replying. It took quite a while, even though she didn’t say much to begin with.

“Can you repeat that again?”

Dinah shot me a furious look and ran her hands through her mane in frustration. I took a small step back because she seriously looked like she was questioning whether or not she should kill me.

“What internal war are you fighting this time, Lauren?” she asked softly.

“Dude. What do you mean?” I muttered, melodramatically, unable to fully accept the gravity of the conversation. Well, not so much unable. More like unwilling to.

“Well, you’re high on some kind of speed, so I figure there must have been something to set you off – something to make you take the route of self-medication once again. I thought you told Camila and I that you threw that stuff away?”

“I did throw ‘em away. Some of them, and I wasn’t trying to self-medicate. I just wanted to be able to keep up with Freya today and give her a good, fun time which she probably hasn’t had in a while considering the fact that her parents died a month ago and she’s been living with my depressed dad since then. So I don’t see why this is a big deal. I’m just trying not to screw anything up. I want her to be happy. I want everyone to be happy and not think of me as some impulsive idiot!”

The longer I talked the more hysterical and choppy my words grew. I didn’t necessarily feel emotional, but my throat had tightened and the knot that lodges in your windpipe when you’re on the verge of tears had paid me a visit. Maybe this was happening because of the shocking realization that I was contradicting myself and once again I’d done something impulsive and incredibly idiotic. Not to mention irresponsible.

Dinah had this expression on her face that clearly told me she believed I was absolutely stupid. She’d never say such a thing aloud though. She knew how sensitive and defensive I could be, and the last thing anyone would want in this situation is more problems. So she remained quiet for the longest, seemingly mentally constructing a smart reply that wouldn’t cause any uproar.

“Lauren, you’re fun all by yourself – ”

“Maybe for you, with my sarcasm, vulgar jokes about people out in public, crass behavior and profanity, but I can’t be that way in front of Freya!” I explained frantically in an undertone. “I have to be responsible, and able to keep up, and energetic. I don’t want her to just like me. I want to be her friend. She needs a friend.”

She grabbed my shoulders and leveled her face with mine, staring me down in silence until I became calm enough for her. “You can be that way without the help of a stimulant. I don’t think of you as some impulsive idiot, but you do some things that are in a way…kind of impulsive, almost like you put no thought into it whatsoever. You have to think, okay? You’re not going to screw anything up today, or ever. I understand that you’re stressing over this a little because you don’t know the first thing about kids, but really it’s not that hard. Take it from me, someone whose had to deal with a lot of those annoying little creatures over the years. It’s just one five-year-old. Don’t think about constantly screwing this up and you won’t. Besides, I’m going to help you out with her as much as possible.”

Lifting my eyes to meet hers, I cracked a smile. “You are?”

“You’re my best friend, you asshole-idiot. Of course I’m going to help you with something like this. And you know your girlfriend Camila is going to as well. She does everything and anything for you, remember?” Dinah began snickering as I abruptly pushed out of her grasp and gave her a look.

She flinched, holding her arms up to shield her face. When I didn’t hit her like she expected, she hesitantly uncovered her head to reveal the most dorkish looking smile. Her smile was so contagious. The scowl set on my face didn’t last for long.

“I’m not gonna hit you, dumbass,” I whined. “Let’s get ready to leave.”

Dinah was still on guard, which was smart of her. I brushed past her, shaking my head at her unabashed cowardliness. Before I could leave the room she hooked me by the arm and spun me around. She was trying to come off as solemn all of the sudden, although she still couldn’t seem to shake the smile that faintly played on her lips.

“No more, okay?” she said sternly, gazing at me with pleading eyes.

“No more.” I moistened my lips, nodding grimly. “But you and I both know I am hilarious when high, so let’s go enjoy this last time while we can, shall we?”

Dinah shoved me through the doorway. _Yikes. Her and those damn man hands._

When I looked back at her she was smirking deviously, so I knew she secretly agreed and was thinking the same as me. Even though she was, she still had to play the caring best friend role. And I could tell it wasn’t because she felt obligated to do so. She actually did care deeply for me, and knowing that made me feel all warm inside.

Dinah was wary of letting me drive but I assured her that I was perfectly alert and fine. So, we all hopped into my jeep and went on an adventure.

I had put in a CD with all of my favorite tunes on it and turned the volume up ultra high, and we were bumping around through little neighborhoods until Dinah started complaining about going deaf. Buzzkill.

The top was down, the wind was blowing in my hair and I couldn’t keep still. I felt the thumping bass from the sound system in my chest, and it rumbled the car as we drove down the highway. It gave me life. Freya had made me give her my sunglasses, because she said she wanted to look cool. She was enjoying herself immensely; throwing her hands up to the sky and cheering with her backwards, inside-out kitty cat shirt on.

She was such a mess.

I kept glancing at her in the rear view mirror, constantly checking up on her. Dinah had let her seat down and decided to close her eyes for a quick cat nap. She was the type of person to ride with the seat back, cross her legs and kick them out the window, which I thought was cool. “I love the breeze on my feet” she’d say through giggles.

What an idiot. My idiot.

Freya didn’t know where we were headed; I told her it’d be a surprise. I wasn’t even sure myself. The initial plan was to hit South Beach for a day of fun and shopping, but I had to save money for rent. All I could afford was gas and some ice cream or something like that, and of course any kind of fun that was free.

Besides, following a plan was never fun anyway. I was the one driving. Going shopping was what Dinah wanted to do. I just wanted to get out of the house and do something that didn’t involve taking pictures. So I took an unexpected sharp turn when the time was right, causing Dinah to jolt upright in panic.

You would think after losing someone to a car accident I’d learn to drive with some caution, or say, some courtesy to others on the road. Nah.

Nirvana was blasting from the speakers, and I had begun to sing along loudly, banging the steering wheel to the beat of _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ without a care. So typical. Dinah repeatedly tapped my shoulder to get my attention. She was wearing a startled expression when I whipped my head in her direction.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re going to Lacey’s place,” I shouted above the music, grinning happily.

Dinah looked around confusedly, clearly showing disinterest in my decision. “Why would we do that? Camila said the whole cardigan thing is no big deal. It’s like you’re asking for drama.”

“I want to talk to her.”

She turned down the music and glared at me. “I knew I should have drove. My life is in danger because you’re under the influence, and now we’re about to go to that psycho’s house. God, you’re so fucking stubborn – ”

“No need to get hostile,” I broke in, pulling the car to a halt at a red light. Holding her steely gaze with an easy smile, I waited until her features softened, then continued, “It’ll be quick. We go over to her house, I talk with her face to face, say what I need to say, then we get out of there. There won’t be anything dramatic about it, alright? I’ll make sure of it. I know how to keep her calm.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” she said, sighing in defeat shortly after.

I ran my hand through my hair, pushing it back off my forehead as the light turned green. “C’mon, Dinah. I swear, if things get out of hand – which they won’t, by the way – I’ll just leave. It’s that easy. Relax, babe.”

Her and I exchanged looks. She still didn’t look convinced. I gave her arm a little punch, smiling devilishly.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Freya chimed in.

My eyes averted to the rear view mirror, peering at the sassy child. She was an amusing little thing.

“Hey, you keep it down back there. I don’t take orders from a five-year-old,” I fussed.

“She’s right, though,” said Dinah with a smug look on her face.

I pleadingly shook my head at Dinah. “Don’t rub it in.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with. You and I both know your ex is not my favorite person in the world.”

“Hell, she’s not mine either.”

Dinah guffawed like a damn crow. “Yeah, right.”

“Don’t pull that sarcastic shit, Dinah. You know just why I put up with her for so long,” I said, smirking inevitably.

She glanced at me in curiosity, a faint look of disgust replacing her amusement. I quirked my eyebrows up at her right as she started gagging.

“You mean to tell me that’s the _only_ reason why you stayed with that bitch?” Dinah exclaimed incredulously. “She can’t be _that_ incredible. I mean, come on, you could get anyone.”

“Geez, lower your voice. I thought we’ve already been over this.”

“Yeah, and I thought you were joking.”

“Nope.”

“You’re lying. You loved Lacey at one point.”

I clenched my jaw, immediately denying her accusation with the shake of my head. Then, out of nowhere, I forced a brief, maniacal laugh that made Dinah cringe. “Dinah, I can assure you that I never loved Lacey.”

She stayed quiet for some time. “Well, that’s pretty cold of you to say.”

When I looked at Dinah I could tell she wasn’t buying anything I was saying. It was something she wouldn’t want to argue about with me, though, so she said nothing to negate it. I honestly didn’t know why I was trying so hard to make it known that I felt nothing for Lacey.

Maybe the fact that Dinah found Lacey just as crazy as I did made me feel ashamed of ever having genuine feelings for her. At this point, I didn’t know what made me sound like more of an in denial bitch. Saying I was only into Lacey for nine months merely for sex, or saying I never truly loved her. Perhaps that was true. Perhaps I didn’t love her, but I did feel _something_ for her very profoundly at one point.

“I guess sometimes the truth is cold, man.”

* * *

Lacey lived in a condo that her uncle rented out to her just a couple of streets away from the ocean in the quiet outskirts of Boca Raton. I’d been to it a few times over the past month for obvious reasons, and I was hoping that this would be the last time I’d ever find myself parked outside her house.

Her car was in the driveway so I knew she was home.

“Hey, Aunt Lauren,” Freya called out. “Where are we? Can I get out?” She unfastened her seat belt and hurriedly climbed out of her booster seat.

“No, I’ll be right back. You stay here with Dinah, ‘kay?”

Dinah’s eyes met mine momentarily, and all she could do was wearily shake her head and let it fall back against the headrest. I hopped out of the car and made my way up to Lacey’s doorstep, taking multiple sips from my fifth water bottle of the day so far. Shuffling in place, I rang the doorbell twice and looked back at the car as I waited. Freya was clinging onto the back of Dinah’s seat, fidgeting excessively and pestering her about something.

The door opened suddenly, causing me to take a step back. Lacey was standing there in a black satin robe with her arms folded, not looking too surprised to see me of course. Her eyes trained on something over my shoulder momentarily, then she fixed me with an unreadable gaze. I was gaping at her all bleary-eyed, nonchalantly drinking the rest of my water.

“What do you want?” she asked impatiently.

“Did you get my messages?”

“Which ones? The thirty-eight text messages or the eleven voice mails? I got all of them of course.”

Embarrassed, I scratched my cheek and refused to give her eye contact. She lowered her face a little to level it with mine, and frankly I didn’t like the way she was looking at me. It almost seemed as if she was patronizing me. With my hands on my hips, I took yet another step back and shot her sharp glance.

“Well then you know what I want,” I said in a soft voice. “I want to talk about some stuff.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Thought you came this way all for a cardigan, and I didn’t expect you to show up sober. You sounded pretty drunk in in the voice mails.”

“It’s not about the cardigan, although it’d be nice of you to give it up. I’m not drunk.”

Lacey studied me thoroughly, appearing skeptical. “Well, something’s not right about you… Are you on the pills again?”

I ran my fingers through my hair, letting out a loud sigh. “I don’t think that’s important, Lace. I came to tell you that –”

“That you don’t want to continue our casual fun and that I don’t deserve to have you in any way? You’ve already said that over the phone, Lauren.”

“I don’t get you,” I blurted, grimacing.

All of the sudden I felt so sick. Sick with myself, sick with being on this stupid fucking doorstep, and though I felt like I couldn’t get any words out, my mind seemed to know exactly what my mouth wanted to say.

“I don’t get why you’re the way you are. I understand I did really bad things, like cheat on you with your own best friend that one time, and then your hairdresser, - oh, and that woman from Craigslist who sold us your car, but I don’t get why you were so bitter to me sometimes for no reason. Why can’t you be like a normal human being? Why do you live to get under my skin?” I paused to catch my breath and almost started laughing – for a reason that’s unknown. “I don’t get this. I don’t get us. I have never understood us. Why are we so drawn to each other when it’s just a complete disaster when we come together no matter what? Why do we do this to each other? Why do you do this to me?”

Lacey stared at me blankly, almost like she couldn’t comprehend what I meant. “I – I don’t understand…” she sputtered. “Why do I do what to you?”

“Why the fuck did you come back into my life, just when I had forgotten about you?”

“I guess…it was my way of trying to give you another chance. But you didn’t want that. You just wanted fun, and I do everything you ask, of course, because just like old times, you have me wrapped around your finger, so I went along with whatever you wanted. I did anything to keep you around again. I realized that you changed, so I thought winning you back would be easier, but of course not, because you still want nothing to do with me. Not in the way I want you to at least. You’ll never feel for me the way I feel for you. Even at the beginning of our relationship I could sense that, but I kept that thought far in the back of my mind to prevent hurting myself, because you are so beautiful it’s almost unreal, and you really do have a wonderful personality, but it just never works between us. It was never going to. I see now that I should have just faced the bitter truth and forgot about you at the beginning, so it wouldn’t be nearly as hard as it is now.”

I lifted her chin so she’d look me in the eyes. “Are you saying that you have feelings for me?”

“It doesn’t matter, now does it?”

“You have a fucking funny way of showing affection, you know that?”

“Look who’s talking? You’re just so annoying and oblivious to everything. It really pisses me off to the point where it drives me up the wall. And I’ve learned that the easiest way to deal with you without letting your actions get to me is to mimic you by acting like I don’t care.”

“That’s bullshit, Lacey – ”

“It’s the truth!” she hissed through gritted teeth. “You’ve never cared!”

“So you’re trying to say I spent nine months of my life with you not caring about you whatsoever? Nine months of my life wasted on you for no reason when I could’ve ended it at any time I wanted and easily devoted my time and life to any of those girls I fooled around with? You’re saying I never fucking cared?” I spoke so indignantly that my voice squeaked and cracked embarrassingly – crazily.

“Nine months of your life not caring, using me, cheating like it was a religion and screaming and bossing me around along the way.”

I nodded vigorously, my nostrils flared. “Lacey, you are fucking unbelievable!” I put my back to her like I was about to storm off, but then quickly spun around in an agitated fit of rage. “And you’re the innocent one within all of this, right? You’re the innocent victim, I’m the villain?”

Lacey said nothing.

“You’re right. I didn’t ever care. I’m just really selfish and I kept you around for my own needs, Lace. I’m a monster and you’re oh-so-innocent. This is stupid. I hope you learned something too, by the way. Not everyone deserves second chances. Especially people like me.”

“Lauren, this was probably your one-hundredth chance. Not your second, I can assure you that.”

“Let me go,” I mumbled in misery, slowly treading backward. “Just fucking let me go. Don’t contact me anymore, and my God, if someone else dies in my stupid family please don’t come by and show your condolences. Don’t take this personally, but I don’t want to think about you anymore. I don’t want to feel like shit for the way I treated you. I don’t want you keeping me up at night on top of several other things.”

She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her face contorted with something awful and bitter, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” Lacey whispered. “Sorry for being such a bother. I know you claim there’s nothing going on, but I’m sorry for coming between you and that girl in any way. She’s right about me, you know? I don’t deserve you. With all jealousy aside, I think she could actually be good for you, even in a friendly way. Seems to keep you in line better than I ever could.”

Lacey disappeared around the corner and shortly came back with Camila’s cardigan in hand. She gave it to me, and when our hands brushed against each others’, she seemed to flinch at my touch. She looked as if it pained her to touch me. I grabbed her hand and brought it up to my lips, tossing the cardigan over my shoulder.

She averted her gaze as my mouth grazed her knuckles and kissed the cluster of four little freckles on the back of her left hand. She hated those things, and I always used to tell her how cute they were. Especially the ones right below her eyes and along on her nose that she often concealed with make-up. She was truly beautiful. Too bad the shitty universe didn’t want us to be together. Too bad it could never work out. Too bad we were both too insane to be compatible.

“I apologize for all of my immaturity, for everything. Goodbye, Lacey.”

I turned to walk off of her porch and didn’t look back. When I got into the car, I just sat there silently and gazed at the steering wheel, disregarding Dinah and Freya’s presence. Lacey was no longer standing at the door when I finally decided to glance back at the house.

“It was like a soap opera up there,” Dinah remarked.

“Did you hear all of that?”

“No – well, some of it. It just looked dramatic and…sad. What happened?”

“It was like breaking up all over again,” I said with a dejected sigh. “Except this time I don’t feel as much pain. I can’t feel anything right now. Just a little painful numbness. It’ll hit me later, though.”

Dinah shook her head as she took everything in. She placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze as I started the car and pulled out of Lacey’s driveway.

“We’re over for good this time, I suppose. In ways she admitted to still having feelings for me, and I just stood there like a bitch with a heart of ice and couldn’t say that back. She knows that anyway. She knows I never quite felt the same way. I hate that I never did, Dinah. I felt something, but just not as strongly as she felt it.”

“It’s okay, Lauren. You guys just weren’t meant for each other. It really blows that it took all of this for you two to realize it. She’ll be fine, you’ll be fine – it’ll all be fine.”

“She said I never cared,” I continued, my voice wavering. “And the sad thing is that I didn’t. She’s right.”

“Gorgeous, if you didn’t care you wouldn’t be worried about her feelings right now. Think about it.” Dinah stroked my hair delicately and added, “By the way, you look really pretty today… So beautiful, you are. It’ll be okay, because eventually she’ll find someone else to drive insane and maybe they’ll be able to put up with it.”

She was the best friend anyone could ask for. She knew me well enough to know that I was so conceited, that the only way to cheer me up at a moment like this would be to shower me with compliments. I smiled at her weakly and nodded.

“You really think that? You think someone will make her happy, because regardless of everything, that’s what I want for her.”

“Everyone finds someone in the end. Eventually it will happen. You’re not to blame for her unhappiness at all. You had to free yourself from that unhealthy relationship…thing, or whatever it was. It’s okay.”

The more she said “it’s okay”, the more difficult it became to _not_ believe her. Though there was still a wrenching feeling in my gut, I felt like I could stop feeling so low. Dinah said everything with such conviction. She could make me believe in anything.

“You’re right,” I breathed, and nodded. “Thanks, I love you.”

“I love you.”

The car was silent. I felt a sense of relief somewhere in the tightness of my chest. My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I put the drop top up. Freya was dismayed, but luckily she knew better than to whine over something so trivial at the moment. She kept squirming in her booster seat, struggling to lean forward and get a good look at my face.

When I halted at a stop sign, she hopped out of her seat and stuck to the back of mine. I kept my eyes straight ahead. She gazed at my profile for quite some time before poking my cheek to get my attention.

“Aunt Lauren,” she whispered in a sing-song kind of way. “What’s wrong? Are you sad?”

“Freya, you need to get back in your seat, alright? Just because the car’s not moving doesn’t mean we’re safe to take our seatbelts off. Don’t do that again, that’s not safe. What if a car hit us and you weren’t in your seat? You would get hurt, right? Do you understand that?” I scolded, staring at her wide eyes in the rear view mirror until she digested it all and nodded. “And I’m fine, so you can stop looking at me that way. I’m fine.”

I tapped the steering wheel incessantly, growing impatient as cars flew by in front of me. Dinah had been watching me with slightly narrowed eyes, and it finally caught my attention just as I started driving once again.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. You just sounded very…parent-y just then,” she said.

“You mean parental?”

Dinah hesitated momentarily, letting the embarrassment sink in. “Maybe. Yes, that.”

I started laughing at her, and in between laughter, wheezed out, “You crack me up the most when you aren’t trying, you know that?”

For a second, she looked like she was about to make a comeback, but she smiled lightly with reluctance and just let me laugh. Not before long, she joined in as well, and at first it sounded forced, but over time her face grew red from loss of breath. Only Dinah would laugh at her own stupidity, and a smart-ass correcting her to make her sound even stupider, which is why I love her.

And in this moment, it dawned on me that Camila was right. I did love people. I was capable of feeling, and I didn’t notice before now because I was in a deep sleep, and perhaps every other moment wasn’t as awakening as this one – a moment with someone I loved, someone who loved me back. I loved Dinah, and what was happening at the time was one of the reasons why. True love didn’t always have to be with someone you weren’t related to, someone you were sleeping with – although it was nice to genuinely have that.

True love was this. True love was scolding a kid for not wearing their seatbelt even when the car wasn’t moving. This was love, and for now it was all I would need to be, if not truly happy, then somewhat happy.

_I am lucky._


	7. the answers aren't in the ocean today, mother

We decided to skip South Beach and just stay where we were at in Boca, because of yet another change in plans. Scott, a friend of my dad's called and said that some of his family whom had just moved to the area from Louisiana were interested in family portraits at their new house, in their new, pristine courtyard. It was short notice, but I got on the phone with a lady who was Scott's sister and she was willing to pay extra if I could do them today since everyone in the family would be unavailable on any other day.

So I gave the lady a big kiss on the ass by scheduling for 5:00. Technically we were both kissing each others ass, but enough of this ass kissing nonsense. As for now, I was going to enjoy the remainder of my Saturday leisurely with my best friend and my new dynamic, five-year-old responsibility.

Freya insisted on getting some ice cream, which didn't sound too bad at the time, so we made a stop at some quaint little parlor only a street away from the beach. The breeze of the ocean tousled my hair and blew it all from side to side as we stood in line for ice cream. I'd say the weather was perfect. Windy, as always. Humidity wasn't too high. In the 70's, clouds hovering over our heads in the sky. Typical weather for October.

“Alright, so what's your favorite flavor?” I asked Freya, having to stoop down to her height because she was acting too inattentive to notice I was acknowledging her.

“Chocolate, girl, you know that,” said Dinah.

My eyebrows knitted as I looked up at her. “I'm talking to the kid, dude.”

Dinah briefly appeared offended.

“I like the plain kind,” Freya said, gazing up at me with eager, sparkling eyes.

She had her arms wrapped around my wrist tightly, because for some reason she thought that I was going to leave her no matter how many times I said I wouldn't. That bothered me. Not the fact that she was clinging to me, but the fact that she'd harbor such a wild fear.

“Vanilla?”

“Yes, but with chocolate syrup and pink sprinkles!”

I smiled at her and stood straight again. Upon looking up, I met the eyes of a beautiful stranger standing behind the counter and I just froze altogether. Whoa.

The girl's mouth scrunched up on one side and gradually formed a brief, surly side-smile that looked forced. She blinked her dull, hazel eyes at me curiously like I'd just slapped her in the face and flatly said, “Hi, order when you're ready.”

That was when I averted my gaze to the ground and began coughing and clearing my throat over and over like a deranged person. I must have seriously looked deranged staring at her with my wide ass eyes and pupils the size of quarters.

“You can go on and...order, Dinah. There's a little...” _cough, cough_ “itch in my throat.”

Shit. I was so embarrassed. I wasn't even sure why I felt the need to cough like that. _Holy shit, Jauregui, you're insane._

Freya was watching me worriedly, but Dinah knew exactly what was up and nonchalantly ordered a dipped vanilla cone. I ended the coughing fit that the breathtaking employee seemed utterly oblivious to. She looked detached from the world around her, almost robotic even. Maybe she just hated her job, or maybe she ignored creepy customers like me.

I practically hid behind Dinah and pretended to look at the menu above her head when really I was looking at the girl standing behind the counter. Her dark brown locks were in a long, messy fishtail braid. She was wearing an apron over the work attire and looked like she should be a model rather than working at some lousy ice cream parlor. Her jawline was really defined, and it seemed that everything was arranged perfectly on her face – all so symmetrical – and I imagined God was high on Adderall when he put her together. I envisioned that momentarily and laughed, then shook away the blasphemous thought.

The nametag on the right side of her shirt read “ **SADIE** ”.

Sadie looked like she wasn't one to fuck with. I don't know – it was just written somewhere in the bleak look on her face, and I think that was what made me stare in awe. The tough girl, I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-this-job exterior. She looked intimidating, even to me, and my God was she beautiful.

When it was time for Freya and I to order, I kept my distance and didn't move forward at all. The girl instantly noticed this, for her eyes twitched slightly as they narrowed in on me.

“Two scoops of vanilla, with chocolate syrup,” I said slowly, in a distracted manner, avoiding eye contact.

“And pink sprinkles! And lots of syrup!” Freya added.

“Just drench it, basically.”

Sadie's mouth curved ever-so-slightly and just when I thought she was about to smile full on, it went away. Vanished. Poof. “Comin' up,” she muttered.

I stalked up to the counter, suavely leaning forward against it on my elbows, watching as she prepared the ice cream. She glanced up at me as she did so, but quickly looked away. This happened another time as well, and I kept catching her giving me fleeting glances, so eventually I stopped acting like I didn't notice and decided not to look away. Then I _did it._

Yes, I gave her _the look._

The one I was always bragging to Camila about.

Sadie pursed her lips together as she handed me the small cup of ice cream, eyes clinging to mine. I honestly couldn't tell if it worked or not. She didn't bat her eyes. She didn't blush. She just blinked at me impatiently, waiting for me to grab the damn ice cream.

When I finally did, she pulled an unexpected smile while swinging from side to side and enthusiastically said, “Will that be all?”

_Was this some kind of inconspicuous response to the look I gave her?_

I noticed she spoke with a minor southern drawl that was absolutely adorable. She had the kind of voice that made not only your knees weak, but every inch of your legs feel like jello. I studied her a moment before handing Freya her ice cream and looking over at Dinah who had taken a seat on a bench not too far away.

“What did you get again, Dinah?”

“Vanilla cone dipped in chocolate,” she yelled back.

“I'll uh – I guess I'll have that then,” I said with a sigh as I pulled out my billfold.

Freya was still standing by my side, still not letting go even as she scarfed down the ice cream. One of her arms was still hooked around mine. She was making a mess all around her mouth already, but I didn't say anything. I just let her have her fun.

“That'll be $6.25.”

I paid her and nodded once, a smile coming across my face. “Have a nice day. This might sound weird, but I just can't leave without complimenting you in some way. You look lovely, and you make that apron look elegant.”

_Raise eyebrows slightly. Glance downward. Now smirk. Eyes back up. There ya go. You've still got it._

She looked down at her work attire long and hard as if confused, and then back up at me, an open-mouthed smirk playing on her glossy lips. She could have literally slapped me in the face right now for whatever reason and I wouldn't even notice. And even if I would have, I'd still be looking at her in the way I am now in a complete daze with the stinging sensation fresh on my reddening cheek.

All of the sudden she seemed to perk up. All of the sudden she wasn't the employee owning that I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-this-job exterior.

“That's very nice of you to say,” she said modestly. “Made my day.”

_Oh God, that accent..._

Although I was reeling on the inside, I played it cool and coolly said, “Well, I am pleased to have made your day.”

Sadie pulled a smile like the one before, where she scrunched her mouth up on one side all dorky-like. I turned on my heel and walked off with Dinah and Freya. I figured not looking back at Sadie would make me look more confident and cool, so I fought the urge to do so and smile at her like a goof with a crush on a random stranger.

“What was that?” Dinah inquired, grinning.

“What did it look like? I just made some beautiful hillbilly's day,” I joked smugly, and bit a chunk from my cone.

The fact that I said it in a deadpan manner made it more funnier to Dinah, and I suppose jokes were always funnier when you said them with no emotion or without laughing. Or maybe not? That was just my sense of humor.

“She was pretty. Should've got them digits!”

“Very. And eh, I'm not going to worry about dating or talking to anyone right now. I would have asked for her number, but...”

“Camila owns your heart?”

“No, idiot. That is not why,” I hissed, playfully ramming into her with my shoulder.

“Then go back right now and get her number. I swear she had her eye on you.”

“No!”

“Well why not?” Dinah exclaimed through fits of laughter. “You're a mess, Lauren.”

“It'd be a waste of time, trust me. I saw her, I flirted. That's all for now.”

“What do you mean by for now?”

“If the universe wants that girl to be in my life, the universe will give me another opportunity to make it happen,” I said. “If not, then whatever. Maybe I met her today solely to make her day and that's all.”

Dinah merely shook her head. “You say the weirdest shit ever, but in a way it all makes sense. You're my little smarty pants, always have been.”

“Duh. I always make sense. You think I just pull things out of my ass? I don't like sounding stupid when I speak, so I actually think before I say things.”

“Are you making an indirect towards me because of the whole “parent-y” thing I said earlier?” she whined, feigning seriousness. “'Cause if you are I will throw your ice cream into the sand, I kid you not.” Her lips formed a tight line as if she were stifling laughter.

“Chill out!” I veered out of Dinah's reach as she came for my cone, protecting it as if it were a fragile little baby. “I wasn't making _an indirect_ toward you, dumbass. I was just saying!”

Suddenly Freya started jumping up and trying to climb onto my back, which ended in failure every time. Eventually I stopped and asked her what she was trying to accomplish. I figured she wanted a piggy back ride, but no – even worse – she wanted to sit on my shoulders. At first I said no with finality, but then she made me feel all guilty and mean by shooting me those pleading puppy-dog eyes.

So I gave in and I picked her up without warning and placed her little body over my shoulders. She wasn't heavy at all; my main concern was her dripping ice cream on my hat and then eventually my hair. Now that would be a problem.

Freya and I finished our ice cream just as we got on the beach. She leaned forward and held onto my hands so she wouldn't fall backward. Every now and then she'd get brave and cover my eyes and start giggling away like it was some kind of game. I would just chuckle and pry her little hands away as we walked down the coast line.

There was something mighty powerful about the ocean. The sound of the waves crashing always give me a sense of solace, and every so often I would drive down during the middle of the night and just sit out on the sand with my knees up to my chest.

The ocean became a burial ground for everything I wanted to get off my shoulders. I'd speak out into the air and let the waves take it all in and drag it down to the bottom of the ocean, and after that, I tried not to let whatever it was bother me ever again, because I had figuratively killed it. I could tell my problems to ocean, and it'd only respond back in waves. The waves couldn't judge me. The waves couldn't scold me for being reckless or impulsive, or for thinking I was too self-absorbed, but the waves did give me answers to many of my questions most of the time, as crazy as that sounds.

My mom used to say, “if you're ever curious or unsure about something, go sit out on the beach, stare at the horizon and think of it as the waves the come in. you'll find the answer out there eventually”.

She used to be kind of like my safe haven, and ever since her death last November the ocean was all I had. Her and I both shared a love of the beach, so I knew that a piece of her was always out here somewhere. Somewhere out in the great big Atlantic.

Freya was up ahead near the water playing in the sand with her sleeves and pant legs rolled up. Dinah was at my side on her phone as I sat brooding, wistfully gazing out at the vast ocean that seemed to never end. We'd stopped walking aimlessly down the beach about ten minutes ago, because I said I was tired of walking and Freya wanted to mess around in the sand. She was in her own little world down there, so I let her be.

I felt like we were having fun. I felt like she was enjoying herself. I felt like things were going steady.

“What are you thinking about, Lo? You don't even look like you're here right now,” Dinah said all of the sudden, studying my grim expression.

“Well, I'm really high right now and I can't stop thinking about various things.”

“Like?”

“I'm thinking about calling Camila,” I answered vaguely.

“Why is that?”

“I want to hear her voice, see how she's doing. You think she'll want to hear from me?”

Dinah was smiling. “I'm pretty sure she won't mind. Go ahead.”

I struggled to fish out my phone from my pants pocket. When it was finally in my hand, I called her. She picked up on the second ring.

“Hey,” she said happily. “What's going on?”

“Hey. How's the party?”

“It hasn't started yet.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“...How's South Beach?”

“Actually we're on a beach in Boca. Change in plans.”

“So, you went up there anyway?”

“Yes, and I got your cardigan.”

“Aww. You're something like a hero,” Camila exclaimed joyously.

I could hear the smile in her voice, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear momentarily. “Yeah.” I laughed, glancing over at Dinah who was staring off into the distance with a content smile on her face. “I guess I am. Beige goes good with your eyes and I like when you wear it, so I had to get it back.”

“I think I'll wear that one more often now.”

“For me?” My voice cracked embarrassingly. Grimacing, I bit down on my lip hard, and mouthed a few profanities.

“For you.”

“How nice of you.”

Things grew silent over the phone. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, listening to the soothing sound of the waves.

“How are you and Lacey?” Camila asked hesitantly.

My eyes opened barely as a gust of wind came by, blowing my hair all over my face. “We're done. Like never communicating again. I hope so.”

“You hope so? Is that what you really want?”

I liked Camila for always asking me questions. Not just any stupid questions either. Questions that actually made me think. Important questions that would help me realize important things if I just thought it all through. I closed my eyes again. _I'm letting go,_ I thought. I told Lacey she needed to let go, when really I needed to let go as well. _I can find someone else to show me attention and give me all of the lovely things that every human being wants. I can find someone else to show affection to; genuine affection._

“Scratch that. I know so, Camila.”

“Well that's good. To be certain about the way you feel. I'm happy for you.”

“I'm happy for me too.” I smiled. “How's the party?”

Camila was quiet for a moment. “You've already asked that,” she said, laughing.

“Really? What was the answer?”

“Hasn't started yet. You might need to go see a doctor about that terrible memory of yours, Laur.”

I just laughed. My mouth was dry and I was really thirsty again, but I'd left my last bottle of water back in the car. Honestly I felt so parched that the dirty ocean water would have sufficed at the moment. I told Camila about my need to drink the ocean water and she thought it was funny, but I was feeling pretty dead ass.

We talked for the next ten minutes about nothing specific, just anything that was going on around us and at one point I even went out and stood right at the tide so she could hear the waves clearly. There weren't many people in sight and I told Camila that it would have been a perfect spot for us to act childish like we always did and have a sand-fight or something stupid like that. Maybe even a game of tag. She thought so too. I loved how she enjoyed simple things like that in life.

Eventually she had to hang up because her cousin had finally arrived and they were in the house with the lights out about to surprise the hell out of him as soon as he walked in. I didn't want her to leave us again but she had to, and I wondered if it was normal to want a friend here with me as much as I wanted Camila to be at the moment. Probably not, but whatever. Hardly anything I ever wanted was normal.

I jogged back toward Dinah and sat down next to her once again, bringing my knees up to my chest.

“Everything okay?”

Lifting my head, I rocked from side to side. “Splendid.”

Dinah leaned over and showed me a picture that she'd taken of me off in the distance at the foot of the tide. In the photograph I was smiling down at the sand idiotically with my phone pressed to my ear, waves licking my toes, the vast ocean in the background.

“Masterpiece, isn't it? I caption it, ' _bae talking to her bae'._ ”

I shook my head, looked elsewhere and said, “You're so immature.”

“Can I post it on Instagram? It's beautiful, really,” Dinah insisted.

“As long as you don't actually caption it that, it's all good.”

She groaned. “Quit acting so oblivious. Camila knows you like her and you know she likes you.”

“Well do you know something I don't?” I stared at her incredulously. “Because I don't know anything.”

Dinah was giving me a look that said, _“you can't possibly be that stupid”,_ and I just shook my head continuously, all of the sudden pulling a mean grimace. My brain was always in decision mode whenever it came to this. Part of me wanted Camila to like me back so we could fall in love and live happily together while another part desperately did not want that, because I knew deep down that something would probably go wrong.

I'd screw it all up and she would never even be able to stomach seeing my face again, or she'd just get sick of me after a certain amount of months, or days. I didn't want to risk that. I didn't want to risk hurting anybody at the moment, or the near future. A part of me was still hurting from other things that had happened in my life. There was so much hurt. Hurt was everywhere. It could happen at any time, and knowing that was so fucking frustrating.

“Actually, I might know something,” I began vaguely, feeling disgusted. “When people say they're jealous of you and another person does that always necessarily mean they like you and want you for themselves?”

“Most of the time, yeah. What are you – ”

“Camila was mad at me yesterday after finding out that I'd been sleeping with Lacey, and then she told me that she was only frustrated because she was jealous. _J-e-a-l-o-u-s._ Jealous.”

Dinah looked like she didn't know how to take that, which I found to be odd. “Camila said that? See, what did I say? She's so into you,” Dinah beamed.

“Do you really think so? I mean, sometimes I get the idea that this is just a stupid game to her and that she's trying to play with my feelings.”

“Camila wouldn't do that.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“We used to be good friends, remember?”

“People change.”

“People like Camila don't. Lauren...” Dinah trailed off, flustered. “Camila's sexuality is very fluid. She's a really open-minded person and in other words, she just goes with the flow.”

I studied her in confusion, unsure of what to say. “What do you mean? Why are you just now saying this?”

“I mean that she is not straight.”

“No. You mean something else too, but you're not being upfront with me. Dinah, you can't keep a secret from a person who knows you like the back of their hand because they're always going to be able to detect that some shit is not right. Now what is it that I'm detecting here with this perceptive brain of mine? This thing that you're not telling me.”

“Camila and I had this thing going on briefly. Junior year of high school, and I've been meaning to tell you because you not knowing just feels so damn weird,” Dinah blurted, brazening it out.

Moistening my lips, I averted my gaze and stretched my legs out on the sand. I moved in multiple different positions as I tried to process what she'd just said. I wanted to make sure that the blood in my body was circulating and getting to my brain like it needed to. I wanted to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal, but still... _What the fuck?_

Not knowing how else to react, I began to laugh, and then dubiously said, “What?”

“I've been feeling really weird about keeping that in. I mean, we know everything about each other, so I've been meaning to tell you, because it's really, really weird to listen to you talk about her like that when I'm keeping this stupid secret. I'm sorry if this was the wrong moment to say it, but I had to tell you.”

I blinked out at the ocean dumbly. “You used to date Camila, and you're just now telling me?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed casually.

So casually that it angered me a little. I didn't like how nonchalantly she was taking this, and all so suddenly this tightness occurred inside my chest and made me feel all riled up and sick. It was jealousy. An odd case of jealousy.

“But don't tell her I told you. It was a very confidential thing back then, because her parents are terribly homophobic and stuff. We never mention it anymore and I don't think it'd bother her, but if I were you I wouldn't bring it up.”

“Okay, but you're not me,” I quipped, and chuckled intermittently. “Therefore I can bring it up if I want to, because I'm my own person, you know?”

Composed, I made eye contact with Dinah in a way that would make anyone from afar assume that I did not just verbally attack her. Frankly, in my mind I didn't. That was pretty mild, even for me. It wasn't even like me to get all snarky with my friends, but then again I don't ever recall a friend dropping something on me like this. Then again, all of my feelings were pretty much intensified today.

“I'm just kidding.”

“Are you getting jealous over something that happened seven years ago? I didn't tell you this to make you feel mad at me or jealous, Lo. I told you because we don't keep secrets from one another.”

“I said I was kidding.”

Dinah knew that I genuinely got pissed a second ago, but she just nodded and pretended to take my word for it.

“It was a weird, fleeting feeling. It didn't last very long. We were just being foolish. It wasn't anything serious and neither of us have feelings for one another at all now,” she informed.

Pouting, she poked me in the shoulder until I looked at her. I smiled and said, “I hope you know that I didn't get mad. I was just kind of caught off guard. Like... you've made out with Camila before?”

“Years ago.”

“You've seen her naked?”

Dinah made a face. “No. Never that.”

“Really?”

“Okay. Once or twice, but we never, you know. We were close friends at one point. Friends see each other in their bras and stuff. Nothing serious.

I rubbed my jaw, staring at the ground in disbelief. “I am kind of jealous, I will admit that.”

“It's just a weird part of the past, Lauren. Not a big deal. It was all curiosity and experimentation, really.”

“So you think it was just one of those gay phases then? You think she's not into girls anymore?”

“I mean for me that's what it was. I just want you to know that I don't want Camila in any way and that she's all yours and there's no reason to feel jealous.”

We exchanged a look, and then I nodded. My jaw was locked hard and I couldn't get the image of Camila kissing my best friend out of my head. There came that tightness in my chest again, and my mind was some place else so I couldn't control the scowl that swept over my expression.

Dinah sat her hand on my shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing.

“So you've kissed her?” I reiterated, my voice going up an octave.

She laughed. “Stop thinking about it.”

I shook my head. And then my mouth fell open again. The gravity of this all became harder and harder to grasp the more I thought about it. How the fuck did she keep that in all this time? I couldn't believe it, I mean man, _my Dinah_ macking on a fine one like Camila in high school? Still, I didn't know whether to be proud and give her props or to be a jealous bitch.

Giving her praise for something so stupid she did seven years ago sounded more like my character. And I had a feeling it would liven the grave atmosphere that had been surrounding us ever since she dropped the confession.

“Do you know what this means, dude?”

Dinah was looking at me as if I were crazy, and in a hesitant manner, she said, “No. What does it mean, Speedy Jauregui?”

“It means that at one point in time Camila wanted some of you and that ass!”

“Okay, that is enough. We're supposed to be discussing how she clearly wants some of you, _now,_ as in the present.”

“Alright, alright,” I slurred.

Over the course of five minutes or so, I found myself licking my lips excessively. The breeze had them chapped, and not to mention I couldn't keep my mouth closed for the fucking life of me. On top of that the inside of my mouth was already the Sahara desert.

Dinah was laying on her back, her eyes set skyward. I had my body facing her now, still hugging my knees, as we talked and talked. Every now and then I'd have to look to my right to check on Freya, whom was carrying on a conversation and making sand castles with an imaginary friend. She would literally look to the empty space beside of her and ask this friend questions, and patiently wait for an answer.

I didn't think much of it and decided to let her be. A lot of kids that age had imaginary friends, and I figured maybe she was lonely.

Dinah let me get all of my talking and thinking out, because I just couldn't seem to find my pause button. She sat there and nodded when I said something, and she hummed her _mhmm's,_ and she listened to all of my petty problems and contradicting thoughts and theories like any good friend of an inebriated mentally unstable person would.

She was the best.

“ – I mean, I think about her a lot, you know? I have a lot of shit on my plate right now. I just feel really busy, you know?”

Dinah simply nodded, briefly meeting my eyes. “I know.”

“Like my life is going nowhere and I'm just going, going, going all of the fucking time for no reason. It gets irritating after a while, but being with Camila is the only thing that actually seems...meaningful. The only thing that seems worth doing. I've never met anyone so optimistic and hopeful about the world. It's inspiring, and it makes me want to keep on keeping on. She breathes so easy, so easily. She doesn't let anything get to her. I wanna be like that. I just want to breathe easy. I want to walk through a room and light it up, take a deep breath and say, 'man I fucking love life'. I've always wanted that, you know?”

“I know.”

I was speechless for a moment, so I took the time to let my mouth rest. As creepy as this may sound, I was always thinking about Camila. Whether it be her grace, her optimism, or the way her legs looked in a pair of pants. It's like she had me under her spell, and I couldn't remember crushing on someone this hard since – like – my first crush on a girl in high school. It was weird and so intense.

It made me feel weak. Vulnerable. Which is why I tried avoiding these feelings. Which is why I often tried avoiding her feelings as well. Acting oblivious and inconsiderate made things a whole lot easier.

“You know, you've never been like that,” Dinah said all of the sudden.

“I've never been like what?”

“You've never been one to walk with an air that says, 'man I fucking love my life'. That's just who you are, and it's what I'm used to. And you have to acknowledge that Camila hasn't been through nearly as much as you have in your life, I don't think. You've been through a lot, and you're strong, and you're as real as they come. You don't sugarcoat things, you say it like it is. You're rough. You're not frilly like Camila. You're not naïve like her. If she lost someone it would probably break her and ruin her life, whereas it's already happened to you twice and if it were to happen again, you'd be resilient as hell. Don't praise someone who's optimistic and bubbly but has never known tragedy. Don't think of them as strong, because they're weak. They only seem strong, but in truth, they've never had anything to face, which is why they're like that.”

“Whoa. Look at Ms. Depth over here. I thought I was the high one!” I raved.

Dinah started to laugh, because apparently I sounded mentally challenged. I ended up replaying what I said over in my head and concluded that I indeed sounded fucking stupid. I buried my head in my lap like a turtle going back into its shell, dying with soft, breathless laughter. Suddenly I was rolling over to the side in this weird-ass egg roll position, that I knew just had to look fucking hilarious from where Dinah was sitting. I envisioned it clearly and died a little more.

God, we were such idiots. Funny how we could go from serious to laughing hysterically within 60 seconds. You know how when you're laughing at something with your friend really hard and then the laughter dies down eventually, but all you do is glance at each other again fleetingly and you start off with another little snicker that leads to full on cackling merely moments after all over again? I loved those moments. I loved when that happened.

“But uh, what you said...it makes sense, Dinah. I understand what you're saying.” My voice was a straining rasp by the time I was able to utter this. “'Bout time you say something that makes sense, man.”

I noticed I sounded tired and my slurring only got worse.

All Dinah could do was nod in agreement, this big goofy grin still spread across her cheeks. There was only one person in the world left who could make me smile like how Dinah was smiling right now. And that was Dinah herself. That smile of hers was contagious, man.

“Fuck,” I screamed to the top of my lungs.

Several feet away, Freya stopped playing in the sand, looked back at me in shock and hollered, “STOP!”

This girl was clearly not a fan of swear words. Kudos to her for having more sense in her head than me. I should have known better than curse in front of my niece, but then again I was an inebriated careless immature moron whom should have never been left in charge to take care of her in the first place. _You're suppose to be an adult,_ they say. _You're 25, they say._

 _Fuck you,_ I say.

Dinah looked lost. “Well, that was very random,” she muttered, her eyes narrowing. “What exactly was that for?”

I sighed and shot Dinah a weary look. “I think Camila likes me.”

I'd forgotten about all of the madness briefly and now it'd just hit me again. I sat there with my shoulders slumped as Dinah said nothing, because she wasn't quite sure what to say, and drew big words in the sand with my finger. Big random words with lots of syllables. Like _photosynthesis_ and _antithesis_ and _melancholy_ and _irritability_ and _inferiority,_ while humming the lyrics to _Robbers_ by The 1975.

“And you're going to someone's house in two hours to take pictures?” said Dinah dubiously. “You're acting deranged.”

“Ah. I'll be fine by then – I'm fine now! Hey, Dinah, let me tell you – last night I thought Mila was going to kiss me. She got really close, and started touching my face, and staring at me all weird. It was terrible. I feel stupid, because sometimes I think I know how to handle this situation and then other times I feel like this. Clueless. Uncertain.”

“How is it terrible? Do you like her or not? I swear your feelings change by the second.” She looked exhausted and I didn't blame her.

I was exhausted as well. Sick of me. Done with myself. Done with the constant switch up of feelings. Sick of worrying and thinking about this fucking girl. My roommate. It was official. I was crushing hard on my roommate, which is something I feared from the beginning. Only a month ago. A fucking month ago.

“I do like her, damn it – I don't want her liking me!”

“Why?”

“Because I think she'd be setting herself up for failure and disappointment. It's so scary. I don't want this to happen.”

“You cannot control her feelings,” Dinah said, enunciating each syllable. I swear hearing her say that felt like a slap to the face. Like a sudden reality check.

“But I can control mine, right? I can ignore mine and make them go away?” I was staring at her desperately, like my life depended on the answer. Like I couldn't think for myself.

Dinah shook her head. “Most of the time no. I don't think _you_ can anyways, you're in deep.”

I felt conflicted all of the sudden. Lost even.

“I could make myself unavailable. Keep my mind off of her with another girl. I need that anyway, right? A nice relationship with a nice girl, or a friend with benefits who is not psychotic. Yes. I prefer the last one.”

“Keep in mind that you shouldn't ignore her feelings either, because that is not right.”

“So you're saying I should acknowledge them?”

“I'm saying that if you seriously think she likes you – which she does, by the way – you should talk with her about it and not act like her feelings are nonexistent, Lauren. Do not continue to lead her on and then come home with some skank one day, knowing that that would upset her.”

I simply nodded, acting as if we were finally on the same page. “But I think I should find someone else to get my mind off of her. I'm sure this isn't healthy – ”

Dinah groaned. “Lauren. Whatever happened to that long drone out speech about you not letting fear control you anymore? That you were going to be fearless and do what made you happy?”

“Nothing. That just doesn't apply when it comes to Camila.”

“It does. It applies to everything. I think you should talk with her.”

“I'm not going to talk with her.”

“Yes you are,” said Dinah.

“I am not going to talk with Camila.”

“But you are.”

“I can almost guarantee you I will not talk with her.”

“BECAUSE YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE.”

“Because I am deathly afraid,” I corrected sharply.

“Would you like for me to talk with her?”

“No, I would not like that.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“It's your life.”

“Right. My life. Totally right. It's about me and what's best for me.”

“Not always,” Dinah remarked.

“Oh, but it is.”

My best friend just sighed, clearly defeated. “Whatever you say.”

This was fucking stupid. My head was about to explode and I'd have to force myself to not think about it anymore. Camila wasn't here. I was here at the beach with Freya and Dinah. _We should just stop talking about Camila. We should forget her altogether. We should pretend she doesn't exist for a little while._

Oh, what am I thinking? That's utterly unfeasible. But it was worth a try.

Dinah didn't say much after that, which was good, so I decided to go down and play in the sand with Freya and her imaginary friend, Arty. According to Freya, Arty had blue hair, a big smile and liked making silly jokes. She described him as having hair like the cookie monster, and instead of looking at her and saying, _what the fuck, kid_ , I sat back and asked her to show me exactly where he was. She said that he was right next to me at the moment, with dirt all around his mouth because he'd been eating dirt before I came over. She then said not to judge him for eating dirt, as he was very sensitive, and then introduced us to one another.

Freya told me that Arty lived at the beach and every time she came, he payed her a visit and spent time with her. He sometimes even visited her while she was away as well, but “rarely”. I assumed it was some kind of thing she did to make herself feel less lonely when with adults, which seemed logical.

I was relieved whenever she told me that Arty was the only imaginary friend she had, because after a while, this shit kind of got a little creepy.

Dinah stood over us for the next couple of minutes and watched as I played with Freya and “Arty”, occasionally shooting me concerned looks as Freya held serious conversations with him.

“Just normal kid shit,” I whispered to Dinah as we walked back to the car.

Freya fell asleep on the ride back and it was silent the entire way. All I could hear was the rippling of wind as scenery zipped by and the radio playing distantly. Dinah had agreed to watch Freya at the apartment while I did a quick business errand, as long as Siope could come over after he got off work.

Which was perfectly fine with me. Until I got to thinking about how Dinah and Camila would be together without me once she got back home. Paranoia consumed me, and I soon felt distant from every one of my friends. Especially Camila.


	8. people are strange

After going home to change, I drove to a client's house for the family portrait call I'd gotten earlier. The home was in some suburban neighborhood in East Miami, but it stood out like a sore thumb because it was a huge cottage-style kind of mansion, sat at the very end of the street in front of an open plain, and was blatantly unlike any of the others all lined up on each side of the street.

I forged along the cobblestone path that lead to the front porch. The house was made of stone and looked like something out of a storybook. It was a light gray with teal shingles, and had a chimney, and a bay window. Freshly planted flowers and rosebushes lined the walkway, and little hedges on the perimeter of the driveway. A shiny white Mercedes graced the landscape out in front of the garage.

The setting was perfect, but from what the owner said earlier on the phone, the pictures would be taken in a courtyard. It must have been out back somewhere, and the thought of that excited me. This was the usual when coming to do family portraits, as most people who were too sophisticated, or lazy you could say, to take their own pictures were mainly wealthy folks. I was always seeing high price mansions that cost more than everything in my life, but there was something about this house that truly piqued my interest.

As I reached the porch, I glanced up at the arched opening and spun around to take in everything else. I punched the doorbell with my finger and took a step back. The rhythm of the doorbell wasn't your typical _ding dong_ either. It was a more drawn tune with several dings and dongs, kind of like a church bell. Probably got annoying after a while, but I thought it was quirky.

I took a bottle of water from my backpack to fight off my terrible cottonmouth, and ended up chugging down the entire thing. I tossed the empty bottle into my backpack. Then took a breath meant, wrapped my hand around the lens of the Nikon hanging from my neck and tried to look professional. I'd been doing this job for almost a year and a half now, yet I still looked like a gawky amateur half of the time. It was a wonder anybody ever took me seriously.

There was a click. Then the door was open, and there stood a boy who looked about ten dressed in a white dress shirt twice his size and a skinny black tie. His eyes lit up and became all googly. I smiled and threw up a hand; the lazy wave.

“This is the Castile residence, yeah?”

“My last name is Castile and I live here, so yeah. Are _you_ the photographer?” he said, mindblown.

I wanted to roll my eyes, and bash him over the head with my Nikon to maybe knock some sense into him, but this equipment cost way too much to be used as a weapon. So maybe my hand would suffice.

“I am.” This time I didn't smile.

“My name's Joseph. I'm in the seventh grade.”

Sixth grader, huh? He was just a little perverted thirteen year old with raging hormones, so maybe I couldn't blame him for being so invasive with his eyes, but it still disgusted me. A lot. So why not patronize him?

“That's sweet, little guy.” I petted him on the head. “Where's your mom?”

He flinched a little at me touching his perfectly slicked back hair, looking up at me dismissively. All of the sudden a woman came to the door and stood behind Joseph, placing him to the side.

“You'll have to excuse him,” she said, reading the expression on my face. Soon hers matched mine and she side-glanced at him like she wished she'd never given him life. “He's a flirty one. Thinks he can get any girl he lays eyes on, young or old.”

“Mom...”

She held up a hand and refused to give him eye contact. “Go see if your brother is finished getting dressed. And don't eat anything in that there shirt.”

Joseph trudged off and disappeared behind the door. Footsteps raced up a staircase and soon he was leaning over the balcony like fifteen feet in the air blowing me kisses. Mrs. Castile followed my gaze, then pointed at him, which was a threat I believe and mouthed something wicked to him because his face contorted with horror and he bolted down the hall.

“Patricia Castile,” she said suddenly, and sent out her hand for me to shake.

“Lauren Jauregui.”

“Ooh, that's a hard one to say.” Mrs. Castile laughed with her hand on my shoulder like we were best friends. “Come on in, darling.”

I walked through as she stepped to the side. Engulfed by cold, refreshing air, I took a deep breath and smiled. The house's interior was just as amazing as the exterior, although things were still in boxes.

Castile looked like she was in her late forties and wore a grim expression most of the time. She looked like she let nothing bother her – like the type who was too hard on her kids and slightly detached from everything. It faintly reminded me of someone else, but I dismissed the thought. She was a slender woman, a little taller than me, which made her even more intimidating.

As we snaked through the living room, Castile said, “My daughter is running a bit late, which doesn't surprise me. It's five and my husband hasn't gotten home either. I apologize about that. Those two can never be on time.”

She lead me into the kitchen and told me to have a seat. We sat in silence for a long time; I stared down at the granite counter top, my leg bouncing up and down incessantly as Castile sat scowling at the glowing screen of her smartphone. I swear at one point she was playing Words With Friends. I figured we were stalling time, so I began to go through photos in the library of my camera and listened to a mental playlist.

After about twenty minutes of nothing but pure discomfort and still air, she got up and grabbed two glasses out from the cupboard across the kitchen. I looked her over in curiosity, shifting in place in my bar stool by the kitchen island.

“Do you drink? Or would you like some water?” Castile let out a little laugh.

My lips parted as she retrieved a bottle of red wine from the fridge. There was a section in there just for alcohol, and then I noticed over on the counter by the stove they had a little collection of wines and liquors.

I rubbed the back of my neck and kind of shook my head. I could tell that I appeared constipated, because Castile's eyes narrowed.

“No thanks, Mrs. Castile. I'm fine.”

“Oh, darlin'. Don't call me that,” she sighed. She poured her a glass of wine, then met my eyes again. “Call me Patricia.”

The atmosphere felt awkward. What the hell was I even doing? Where is her family and why aren't they ready for the portraits? I should be asking these questions and I should be giving her shit for this, but instead, I was calm and keeping it all together. In a way it kind of felt nice in a new home, with a woman in her forties being kind to me and offering me a drink.

Castile reminded me of my mom. Except Mom would never offer me a drink. Mom never liked alcohol.

She sat back down in her seat to the right of me.

“What about if I call you Castile? Patricia is nice, I mean it's your name, but Castile has a cool ring to it, you know? Or at least Mrs. Castile?”

She studied me for a while with a look that I couldn't read. She was either about to flip on me for questioning what she preferred being called, or she'd be cool about it.

“Perhaps you're right. Call me Castile, I quite like that.” She leaned in and grinned in a way that made me feel warm and welcomed.

As I laughed and fell against the back of my chair, my eyes landed on the bottle of wine sitting in the middle of the counter in case Castile needed a refill. It called me.

Now, I know that sounded like something an alcoholic would say, but rest assured, I am no alcoholic. Maybe I just had the urge to get rid of this ridiculous tweak, or maybe I was looking for a way to wind down quicker and look like I hadn't taken anything. Or maybe I just wanted to get buzzed to make this whole thing with the Castiles go by easier.

I watched Castile take down half of her glass and nonchalantly said, “Yeah, maybe I should get some of that.”

“Now you are of age, aren't you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Oh, my. You don't look a day over eighteen,” she gushed as she poured me a glass. “You be good to yourself and don't live the hard life, then you'll look like twenty-five at forty.”

A smile came over my face and I thanked her for the compliment, but all I could think about was downing that red wine. Tapping the marble counter top incessantly, I stared at the liquid cascading into the glass with wide, bulging eyes. I grabbed the glass so quickly that it startled Castile and made her recoil.

I consumed that wine in one gulp, wincing at its bitter taste. The liquid was cold so it gave me a quick refreshing feeling, and I smiled heartily at Castile without a worry, my glass in the air.

She smiled at me with her eyes and gave me more without hesitation. Also poured herself a third glass as well.

“So, you're Scott's...sister?” I asked.

“Mhm. And you're Scott's friend's daughter, if I do recall.”

“Correct.”

“I really am sorry about my daughter and husband's absence. Neither will answer their damn phones. I mean, this is expectant of my daughter because she's going through this rebellious phase all over again at the age of twenty. But my husband always calls when he's late at the office.”

“Your daughter lives with you?”

“Out back in the poolhouse. She refuses to be in the same room as me,” Castile said, and took a drag of wine. “Do you think that's rational?”

I licked my chapped lips and give her a serious look. “What is rational?” I murmured. “Everyone has different definitions of that word. Warped, wrong definitions, but we're all entitled to think anything we want. It's all in how we were raised, really. Sometimes.”

She looked off reflectively as she rubbed the ends of her fingertips together. “I raised her right. This is what I get. Two sons who are still in school and then there is one daughter, whom you especially hope the best for, who never even went to college and has a job that pays minimum wage; $7.29. Now that, makes you wonder.”

Suddenly I received a head rush. I felt relaxed after a while, somewhat out of it. I felt as if I were descending down rollercoaster slowly. Castile seemed to be on the ground and I was still way up high in the sky.

“Sometimes things happen. Things go wrong. Turns to shit.”

Castile nodded, her eyes closing. “She's failed me many times.”

Apparently, she was feeling loose as hell after those four glasses of wine, because she kept telling me things that normally I would not have cared about. But today, I was compassionate, and warm. Understanding.

“She wants to become a model, but I want her to follow in my footsteps and become a lawyer. She's...lesbian, but I wanted her to marry a beautiful man that treats her like a lady and give me beautiful grandchildren, but she will never. Because she does everything to spite me, everything I don't want on purpose.” Disgust clung to her slightly wrinkled features.

I paused a moment, not really knowing what to say.

“She's gay?”

Castile's mouth was pinched shut, nostrils flared. “Yes,” she hissed tersely. “I told my girl that she's too pretty for that. Can you imagine how embarrassing it is to watch your daughter be with another girl, committing filthy sin and calling it _love_?”

My throat tightened. I sat my glass down, poured me another round of wine and sipped from it once before I even thought of what I could say to this.

“The worst,” I said, giving my head a shake.

Sometimes when I talked to homophobic people who weren't aware that I, myself, am gay, I played along just for the hell of it. I was curious as to how someone could be so unjust and close-minded. Sometimes I tried to see if life was easier being that ignorant, but it wasn't. It was the same old shit, but even shittier. I realized that this type of thing was just in a person's nature.

It had all to do with their upbringing, I suppose. My mom had always taught me to accept people no matter what, and so did Dad, which is ironic because it took him a few years to be okay with my lifestyle. I still don't think he looks at me the same way, and I often get the idea that he favors Taylor more, but whatever. Life is life and it is what it is and you can't let things like that make you despise breathing.

 _“Breathe easy, darling. Breathe. He'll come around,”_ Mom used to say.

I'd get the worst panic attacks about facing Dad with new girlfriends back when I could keep one for more than two weeks. I'd get them out of fear because telling my friends was like the most horrific thing to imagine. I'd get panic attacks all of the time, and only mom could make it all ease.

Eventually Dad did come around, but our relationship will never be the same as it was when he thought I was going to grow up and marry some big shot athlete and give him grandchildren, grandchildren with a man.

Castile had been crying for the past five minutes, but I was too engrossed in my thoughts to notice. She was sniffling, trying to cover her face with her arm and wiping at tears with the sleeves of her white shirt. And now there was mascara stained all over it.

I wanted to curse loudly and leave because these family portraits weren't happening tonight. Instead, I patted Castile's shoulder and made her look me in the eyes. Tears streaked her tan cheeks, and her chestnut hair stuck to the side of her face.

“Breathe easy, okay? Just breathe. Things will come around.”

She looked up at me like I'd just saved her life. She straightened her posture and hurriedly cleaned her face with a napkin nearby. She looked fragile and out of tune as she walked towards the trashcan, but there were no more tears. I was convinced that maybe those words were magical.

That little quote became my motto, and I was always telling that to other people in distress. Always chanting it to others, including myself. Saying it always made me feel a little better, even when I felt psychotic and hopeless. Perhaps Mom laced it with a little bit of her magic for me.

“I'm sorry to disturb you with my feelings. I don't know what came over me. I don't usually cry in front of people like that, darlin'.”

I nodded understandingly, stared at her for quite some time and then shrugged. “I get it. I understand. It's no big deal. Don't apologize.”

“You don't give your mother trouble, do you?”

“No ma'am,” I said proudly. “I tried not to. She'd probably have a job on her hands with me now if she was still here though. She's deceased.”

Castile's face scrunched up. “How tragic,” she mused, gazing wistfully out the window over the sink now. “What's a young woman without her mother?”

 _Lost,_ I thought.

The night proceeded easily, and we got drunk on more alcohol in the fridge. Yes, I spent my Saturday night conversing with a borderline alcoholic forty-nine year old lawyer whose family didn't have it together at all. Dysfunctional as they come. We talked, and we talked, and her husband showed up at around six and ever came back out of hiding, but her mysterious, rebel of a daughter never arrived.

Her sons came down, gawked at me, the hot photographer that no one really knew, and then casually went back upstairs to play video games or whatever it is teenage boys do in their leisure. No family portraits without the entire family, so why not drink heavily and forget current dilemmas for a little?

In our stupor, by nightfall Castile was showing me around the courtyard behind the house where the portraits would have been taken. There were so many colors, so many flowers. Rosebushes, carnations, chrysanthemums, daisies and hydrangeas; and those were just the ones I could name. In the center of the courtyard sat the most elegant fountain I'd ever seen.

It stood gallantly, made of stone, in the middle of a small pond. Several little fishes swam amongst the water, but the ones that glowed in the dark really brought the pond alive. Lines of solar white lights draped around the columns on the porch and on the pillars that held flowerpots. It was all so beautiful, and quite the setting for portraits.

When I started stumbling into things, right along with Castile, she and I went back in the house. Still no sign of her daughter. She wasn't in the poolhouse according to Castile.

Since I was too inebriated to drive on home, Castile let me sleep it off in a secluded lounge in the other side of the house. I called up Dinah and told her what was up through slurred words that didn't seem to make sense, but she said “okay” like she understood.

On the couch, I laid there and it seemed to hug me in a warm embrace. I murmured angrily into the night, arguing with no one about how Camila and Dinah were in the same house tonight. Maybe I could have told Dinah to go home, but I didn't. Dinah would probably brought it upon herself to go home after she put Freya to sleep or something.

Screw it.

I fell into slumber under a black satin throw on a couch that held me like a lover who'd just returned home from a long trip.

*** * ***

The time on my phone read four fifty-one. I had a headache, and I was in an unfamiliar home. Then abruptly it all came back to me. _Got drunk with some old lady you hardly know. Very unprofessional. Never took the photos. Things escalated like lightning._

I bolted up from the sofa, grabbed my backpack and made a beeline to the big doors someone had closed within the night. _They won't creak. This is a new house._

I was wrong. They creaked like hell. I eased out of the slightly cracked doors, swearing under my breath in the process. Now that I was out of the lounge, all I needed to do was find my way out of this labyrinth-like house without bumping into anyone or anything.

It was dark in the halls and I had to put my arms out in front of me as I walked to avoid crashing into something and waking the whole house. Luckily for me, the lights were only turned off on that specific side of the house. Castile told me that it was practically vacant during the night and was for guests or something. I didn't care to remember.

The whole situation I was in was embarrassing. I mean, what kind of person does this? No one with it all together that's for sure. I didn't want to face anyone in this family. I felt like choking myself as I meandered through room after room, searching for the front door or any door that lead out of this damn house. I kept stumbling, and at one point, I tripped over a rug and fell to the floor with a loud _“ooof”._

And I laid there for a little, right there in the middle of the floor. Part of me somewhat hoped that someone would walk in, turn on the lights and ask what the hell I was doing; only because at least then I'd get shown the way out. That didn't happen though.

Instead, when I finally came across the two staircases merging together at the second floor in the foyer, I was greeted by a small voice, and something hard pressed to my temple.

“You know, a blow to the temple kills, right? One move and I'll cock this thing back and let it swing.” The choice of words were macho and brave – even sounded rehearsed – but the person uttering them wasn't.

Three things immediately registered in my mind. Firstly, _oh shit._ Secondly, _Female. Definitely, even though there was a bit of bass to the voice._ And thirdly, _the familiarity. She sounds familiar._

I swallowed hard and kept still. “I'm not trying to hurt anybody,” I said forcefully. “I'm just trying to leave. I was invited into this house. I didn't break in, alright?”

“Why the fuck are you after me? I cannot believe you had the audacity to follow me home, you fucking weirdo.”

_What?_

I almost turned halfway around when she stopped me by grabbing my wrist and slamming me face first into the front of the wooden staircase railing, then against the wall. I grimaced at the taste of dried paint, and the wall caught my groans.

“You're gonna break my wrist!” _Twist._ “I'm legit about to cry. I'm not going to hurt you or anything, just let me go!"

Silence. Then, shockingly, she relented and loosened her grasp.

“I've still got this bat in my other hand,” she warned in a whisper.

_She did all of that with one hand?_

I whipped around to face this crazy ass chick as soon as she released me. The moment I saw her the floor caught my jaw. She didn't look surprised, of course. In fact, she looked pissed. _It was Sadie_ – the intense girl from the ice cream parlor just outside of Boca. I couldn't believe my eyes, really. I blinked several times as she glared at me coldly, like she hated just the sight of me.

“You live here?” I said in disbelief, and continued gaping.

“Why are you here? Explain.”

Suddenly, my body was there, but my mind left the scene. I looked her over. Her face was clear of any make-up – I could tell that she wasn't wearing any mascara, because I mean, who would be at five in the morning, yet her eyelashes were so long and fluttery whenever she blinked. She was in pajamas; plaid bottoms, and a gray long-sleeve shirt with some college football team's name and logo printed on the front. Seeing her this way made her a little less intimidating, and I almost wanted to laugh.

If she wasn't looking at me like she was about to skin me and eat my flesh for breakfast, maybe I would have.

“I said you had five seconds to explain. Your time is well over,” she said, furious.

I held my hands up in defense, motioning for her to calm down. “Sadie, right?”

Her face went blank. “Yes. Why are you here?” She didn't seem to move her lips when she spoke, which was odd, and it kind of scared me, but I didn't yield.

“I was supposed to be taking photos of you and your family today, but you never showed, and now, before you go assuming and accusing me of being some sick pervert, I am a photographer. I was hired by your mother. This is just some weird coincidence. I didn't follow you home today.”

I held her gaze to show her I could be just as intense as she could.

“Okay, but why are you wandering around my house in the middle of the morning?”

“Oh. Well, you see...” I kind of laugh and look away. “Your mom offered me wine and I kind of went to town, but so did she. I was too messed up to drive, so she let me sleep it off in that lounge room. I couldn't find my way out when I woke up. This house is like a maze.”

Sadie eyes narrowed. “You got drunk with my mama?”

I clasped my palms together, hesitating to concur that that is exactly what had happened. Shuffling in place awkwardly, I endured silence for the next couple of seconds or so.

“I'm sorry for some of the things she probably said.” Sadie groaned, rolling her eyes with resentment. “She can be a bit of an alcoholic, and she kind of gets really wacky when drunk. You shouldn't have encouraged it. Isn't that like, unprofessional of you or something?”

My mouth fell open. “I uh... I didn't encourage it. I don't know, it just happened. It is unprofessional, you're right – ”

“Do you normally get drunk with your clients?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why now then?” She interrogated.

“Well none of my clients have ever offered me alcohol until now,” I quipped, losing my temper a bit.

Sadie looked embarrassed, and she bowed her head to avoid my eyes. Not embarrassed by her failure to quickly hit me with a comeback – though that was probably a reason to be as well – but embarrassed by her mom's behavior.

Sighing, I lowered my face and watched her until she met my eyes again. “It's not a problem or anything, if that's what you're thinking. I had fun with her, she's cool and a real great listener – ”

She folded her arms and took a step away from me. “Don't call my mama cool,” said Sadie, bitingly, her accent strong. “And don't say it like it's 'spose to be funny, because I don't see a thing funny about it.”

I sighed once again. “I wasn't trying to be funny. All I was trying to say before you interrupted me is that she's a great, kind woman, and that you should appreciate your mother more.”

“You know what?” She smiled real big like she'd done before taking my money at the ice cream parlor, flashing all those pearly whites. “I think you should go.”

Just then Castile appeared at the top of the staircase. She squinted down at the both of us. Suddenly I remembered her saying “I can't see worth a shit without my contacts” when we were intoxicated earlier. I refrained from laughing at the recollection.

“Sade, is that you?” she called.

“Yeah Patricia. I was just showing the guest that I didn't even know we had over the way out.”

I narrowed my eyes incredulously at the fact that she'd called her mom by her first name and placed my hands on my hips. Sadie disregarded my look, opened the door and gestured for me to get to steppin'.

“Lauren, darlin', you feeling sober enough to drive?” hollered Castile joyously.

She barked out a laugh and I had to join right along, even if it did clearly anger Sadie.

“Yes, I am, Castile. It's been real with you,” I said, beaming.

“Now, don't forget that engagement party next Saturday, you hear?”

“Engagement party?”

“I must have told you while you were dozing off, my apologies. Yes, next Saturday. We need a photographer for my niece's engagement party. Despite the fact that we didn't get anything done earlier, I think you'd be good for the job because you have such a great spirit and I truly think the rest of our family would like you,” Castile said.

“Wow. Alright. I'll have to check my schedule and make sure this weekend is open so far. It should be. What time?”

“Sade, honey, what time does the party start?”

Sadie started mumbling under her breath, and all I could make out from any of it was “I don't fuckin' know.”

We all exchanged looks. Then Castile frustratedly said, “Lauren, I'll call you sometime this week and let you know.”

“That's fine with me. Have a nice morning, Castile!” I waved up at her.

On my way out of the door, I passed Sadie who was giving me the nasty look.

“You have a nice morning too. Sounds like I'll be seeing more of you next weekend, yeah?”

She snorted derisively. “Unfortunately.”

As I sashayed out of out of the house, I gave her a look. I could tell she was secretly digging my smirk. Once I was out on the porch, I swung around to face her. Sadie looked amused, surprisingly. The light in her eyes went out fast, though, and she rolled them like my presence sickened her.

Feisty and seemingly unable to be swayed. I liked them that way. To a certain extent though, of course. I was losing my patience with Sadie, but damn she sure had a way of making bitchiness sexy as hell.

One second I was winking at her, then the next thing I knew I was facing the huge door out in the dark, early early in the morning. All alone. She'd slammed it right in my face.

_What a bitch, man._

Sadie was a sourpuss who I knew nothing about, except from what her mom had told me. She was beautiful – like the kind of beautiful that made you ball up your fist, shake your head and go _“wooowhee”._ Up until now I'd never heard anyone say that. Castile had said it when referring to her husband, and I just laughed, not fully understanding it.

But after getting a good look at her daughter once again, I could finally comprehend.

*** * ***

Coming back home after such a great night was somewhat depressing, but I'd just have to suck it up and stop feeling so pathetic. I sat in the car out in the parking lot of my apartment complex for a while and stared into oblivion as a sad playlist resonated through the dense air around me. Thought about pretty but bitchy Sadie and how different she was from her mother, and I thought about what she had said.

“ _Do you normally get drunk with your clients?”_

“ _No, you insane volatile bitch,”_ I should have said, sneering. _“Your mom's just kind of hot. I wanted to get her loose.”_

I laughed hysterically to myself, envisioning Sadie's reaction and the entire scene.

She would have probably kicked my sorry ass. Castile wasn't even hot for her age like some women. _But I'll bet, when she was younger... maybe._

That sounds like something I would have said actually; just to get under her skin. A long time ago maybe. I'm a nice lady now. A whole lot nicer than I used to be. Why should I be Miss Sunshine to people like her though? Although I knew the answer to that question, I was always asking myself that throughout the years. My parents had taught me never to fight fire with fire, that's why. To smile at the assholes who shit on you.

Suddenly I wished my mom was here in the car sitting next to me, complaining about how she disliked my soft depressing music while trying to fix my messy hair with her fingers, or something like that. Chris could be here too, sitting in the middle on the edge of the backseat with his head stuck in between us both.

“Just turn the music up louder,” he'd say teasingly, and flash a boyish grin that would make mom say something about how handsome her baby boy is and make her totally disregard the fact that he wanted to drown her out. He always had that effect on people.

For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to envision it. Mom and Chris being here. But I couldn't, because it wasn't happening. And it never would, 'cause life is an unfair hunk of shit. I should just stop, take Elsa's stupid advice and _let it go._ Hoping it could actually happen would only make me more upset.

I wished my dad was here too. Wishing that seemed more tangible and realistic, so it didn't have the same effect on me. I wished he was alive. He was somewhere breathing right about now, but he wasn't _alive_. He'd been that way for awhile. It was one of those things that gave you physical pain in your chest when you thought of it. One of those things that made you stare off into the distance with dead, glazed over eyes, because really there was nothing else you could do.

With an ache stirring about in my head, I jiggled the key in the doorknob, unlocked it and stepped through the front door of my apartment. Camila's door was closed at the end of the hall. I forged further to see Dinah laying back on the couch, Siope sprawled out on the right end and Freya on the left, sleeping with her head in Dinah's lap. Coming home to such a sight could only make someone smile.

I flicked off the light in the small dining area and then it was dark. I waited to see if that would wake anyone. It didn't, so I made my way across the room and headed for mine. The sound of footsteps came from the hallway and when I turned around Camila was rounding the corner

In her hand was a mug of coffee, a book tucked under her arm. She wore her reading glasses, not a trace of makeup on her face, and her hair was in a messy bun. Even at six in the morning when she didn't care about her appearance she still managed to look nice. She made messy look cuddly, cute even. I felt the need to fix my hair, but didn't want to make it obvious. So I pushed it back off my forehead and smiled at her weakly.

“You've been gone quite a while,” she said, sashaying closer. “How are you doing?”

“I'm uh...I'm good. Just out doing business. Stuff like that. What you reading?”

“Book called 'Paper Towns'. It's by John Green.”

“Sounds nice.” I turned and continued for my room.

“Aren't you going to ask what it's about?” Camila saw it as shocking that I didn't care about this type of thing, when usually I would have. She must have forgotten that it was fucking 6:17 in the morning.

Sighing quietly to myself, I looked back at her briefly over my shoulder and shrugged. “I'm tired, Camila.”

She nodded like she understood, but when I didn't move she started back talking again. “You know, you referred to me as Camz yesterday when you were leaving Lacey messages. You've never actually called me that before though. That makes me curious...”

I couldn't help but ask, “Do you like it?”

Camila squinted up at the ceiling as if it took a very strenuous thought process in order for her to decide whether she liked the nickname or not.

“Camz. Yeah, it's cute. Sounds kind of dorky, but you make it cute...”

A ghost of a smirk formed at the corner of my mouth, and I turned around so we were face to face. “Dorky nickname for a dorky lady.”

She kind of smiled and asked, “On a scale of one to ten, how drunk did you get yesterday evening?”

I played dumb, looking at her as if I didn't know what she was talking about. Camila didn't buy it though. She folded her arms, rolled her eyes and pretended to choke herself.

“You're killing me here. Dinah told me, so yeah I know,” she sneered. “Besides, you reek of alcohol. That gave it away too.”

After hesitating a moment, I brushed the tip of my nose with my finger and shrugged indifferently. “Maybe like a seven.”

“You're too much, Lauren.”

When I found her gaze I saw the familiar sparkle in her slightly drooping eyes. It made me stop and stare fondly, and smile, and then before I knew it we were seated at the round dining table across from one another in silence. Very briefly, there was a feeling of relief in my chest. Very briefly. It felt all right to just sit and breathe with Camila, listening to the hum of the refrigerator.

“You and this crowd have fun without me last night?” I whispered, and rested my chin on my folded arms that were upon the table.

“Sure. We watched Frozen twice and then we made ice cream sundaes, sat around carrying conversation – ”

“You and Dinah?”

I immediately felt like punching myself in the throat.

Camila tilted her head to the side a bit. “All of us. This crowd is a good one. They went to sleep early though. So after that I spent the rest of the night alone reading in my room.”

“You've been up all night?”

Camila nodded casually. “Can't really sleep.”

“You want me to sing you a lullaby or something?” I smirked, barely.

For some reason, I was trying hard to regain a happy feeling, but it just wasn't coming back. It's like I let it slip right through my fingers like sand. How could it be that easy?

She playfully kicked my leg underneath the table, trying hard to contain her giggles. I just watched as she covered her mouth with her hands and gushed about how funny that would be. She called me silly, nudging her foot against mine. Footsie seemed so childish, but with her it felt right.

“Go ahead,” she urged, her eyes aglow.

I sat back and bowed my head, my hands fumbling in my lap. “Nah. I won't. That's stupid,” I mumbled in a hardened tone that took her by surprise. “I was just fucking around.”

When we met eyes again, Camila appeared confused. She studied me, all of the giddiness gradually draining from her face. Eventually it became too painfully uncomfortable (or maybe just painful in general) to look at her, so I looked beyond her.

“Is there something wrong?” Camila inquired.

I pressed my hands to my face, dragging my knuckles down my cheeks. “No. I just need some sleep or something. I'm not sure.”

“What are you not sure about?”

“Can't make up my mind about things. I'm so indecisive. I want to go to sleep.”

“Well then go to sleep, Lauren.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “No one's stopping you. Well, if I am then I'm not doing it intentionally.”

I looked up with a not so friendly gleam in my eyes. She didn't shift at all. In fact, her smile grew wider. But all of the concern dwelt in those brown irises I loved to wander in. For some reason, for the first time ever, her compassion and concern angered me. Everything angered me at the moment. I felt so fucking bitter.

“I'm sorry,” I said inaudibly, as I backed away from the table. “Not feeling too hot this morning. Too much shit going on. In my head. Not here. It's peaceful here, with you. Just not in my head.”

Camila placed her book down on the table delicately and hurriedly moved over to the chair closest to me. She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“Then stay in the now with me. Stay out of your head and indulge in your surroundings,” she cooed.

I grabbed her wrist limply and shoved it away. I averted my gaze, shaking my head a thousand times. “That's hard, Camila.”

She adopted a surprised expression and drew back slowly, unaware of what to say. “Are you sad, depressed?”

“It's not a single emotion I can pinpoint. It is all at once, every emotion there is. It's always there, just not always as strong.”

Camila reached out to touch me, but then quickly caught herself. She watched me warily, chewing her bottom lip. I wanted her to touch my face like she did the night before. I wanted her to look at me in that way again, like everything would be okay, despite all of the pain I felt. But what if her touch wasn't enough to make me believe that this morning? What if her touch didn't heal me? Could anything heal me?

Probably not.

Silence filled the air, and then all of the sudden she took in a deep breath and exhaled, “Can I ask you something?”

My eyes swiveled to her direction, but I felt too self-conscious to give her eye contact. So I focused on her lap, and nodded once with my jaw locked tight.

“When your mom passed last year, did you ever go see someone?”

I bolted up to my feet. “I'm going to sleep now.”

“Lauren?” Camila's hands were gripped around the armrests of the chair, and she leaped up once she saw I was making a dash for my room. “I wasn't trying to offend you.”

“And you didn't.” I halted in front of my bedroom door. I massaged my temples in aggravation, huffing out a sigh.

She stood there in silence for the next minute. I didn't know why I hadn't gone inside yet. Maybe it was because I was contemplating whether or not to just go in without a word, or force myself to bark out an apology. What exactly would I be apologizing for though? For being sad? For actually not wanting to put up with her for a change? I don't know.

“Well go get some rest, Laur,” Camila said to me softly.

“I went to a therapist briefly,” I mumbled reflectively, and moistened my lips.

She straightened her posture as I cut my eye back at her. Her mouth had fallen slightly ajar, then it closed. She did this several times, appearing conflicted, as if she wasn't sure whether or not she should speak. Placing my hands on my hips, I faced the door again and hung my head.

“Didn't like it though, so I stopped going.”

“Okay.”

“Why did you want to know? Do you think something's wrong with me?”

“No. You're strong and you're alright. You know that. I just think you may need guidance from someone who actually knows what they're talking about. I don't know if the advice I give you is enough or good enough. You trust me enough to tell me how you're feeling and I feel as if I should have some amazing answer to help you, but I don't know what to say sometimes.”

“How could you say that?” I spun around. “You always know what to say. You are very helpful. Just you breathing, is helpful to me. You help me all you can, and the advice you give me is good enough. It always is.”

“Is it?”

I nodded sincerely. “And don't worry about me. I'm all right. I just get depressed after I drink sometimes, and I've been missing Chris, and my mom...my dad... I'm sure it'll subside.”

“And what if it doesn't?” Camila prodded.

“Then I'll keep on going like I always do.”

“Tell me whenever you feel this way. Every time you feel this way.” She scrunched her mouth up on one side, and shuffled in place, timidly tilting her face to the floor. “I want to be there for you.”

I managed to smile, and it didn't feel forced. “Aren't you always?”

Camila smiled with her teeth, which was something she hardly ever did. I wished she would have because it started a fire in the pit of my stomach that sent a wave of warmth throughout my entire body. Not an unsettling warmth, like you get when you're nervous around someone you like. A euphoric warmth. Giddiness in its purest form.

Maybe she could heal me.

“Get some sleep,” she whispered, practically begging.

“You should as well.”

“Maybe I will now, knowing that you're alright.”


	9. coming off the hinges

“Come on, get your backpack. We've got to go,” I hissed at Freya as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and staggered toward the door.

She took her time getting out of the door, trudging like a zombie and it took every bit of the little patience I had left to not shout in her face and get physical. I know what you're thinking: _That's a little bit aggressive._ I am aware, but to fair, we had a few problems this morning.

One, I am not in any shape or form a morning person, neither is Freya, so if you put two people who hate mornings together at 7:00 on a Monday morning then they are bound to butt heads; even if the age gap is precisely 20 years apart and the older one should be more mature and patient.

Two, neither of us knew what time class started at her school. I would think that since she'd been going to the place just about every day almost two months now she'd at least know what time it began but maybe kids don't keep up with time? Of course I had to remember that she'd missed a lot of school days due to the death of her parents... But still.

Three, there was nothing but hot pockets to eat because Camila had made all of the breakfast Saturday. Freya had a problem with hot pockets, of course, and refused to eat it. After a couple of minutes of trying to reason with her, I lost my patience and screamed, “JUST GO AHEAD AND FUCKING STARVE THEN”.

She called me mean and started crying, ran into my room and locked me out of it.

Freya stayed in there for about fifteen minutes, but when she came out she had on her clothes. She had looked up at me expectantly, like she was hoping that her doing so on her own would make me less angry. I'd dropped down in a squat and pulled her into a hug and said my apologies and kissed her on the forehead, all that good stuff adults do to win kids' hearts back.

It really did pain me to see that I'd upset her, though. Seeing those beady eyes red and watery would pain anyone.

As we raced down the stairs and out of the apartment complex, I hoped that every morning wouldn't be as frustrating and rushed. Freya climbed into the jeep and I followed closely behind her, readying to buckle her in.

“You do know what the name of your school is, don't you?” I asked.

Her eyes shifted to the ceiling, the floor, to me and she proceeded to make an annoying humming sound. Seemed like this was going nowhere.

“Is it Palmetto Elementary?”

She nodded excitedly. “Yes, that's it.”

Shaking my head, I closed the car door and made my way to the other side with my phone in hand. I pressed in the name on the GPS and found a quick route to the school, no less than ten minutes away. We made a quick stop at a McDonald's to order some breakfast; three biscuits for each of us, including Camila, a frappe for me, and six hashbrowns for me because I love those things. Freya didn't want any so I figured I should save like, two for Camila. Or just one. Yeah, one.

When we made it to the school there was a line of cars, people letting their kids out out front. That was good. That meant we weren't late. That meant I made a good ass guess. It was 7:55 now. I veered into the parking lot – hitting the curb and nearly mowing down a hedge in the process – and parked in a handicap space closest to the entrance, not giving a single fuck about the consequence.

“C'mon, let's go, I'm walking you in,” I said, and hopped out.

Freya scurried to catch up with me walking down the sidewalk. I fetched for her hand and lead her across the driveway

“Did you look both ways?” Freya beamed whenever I looked down at her.

“Did we get hit?”

She glanced back at the line of cars passing, then at me again. “Nope.”

“Then you have your answer. Always look both ways, 'kay? Never go in the street.”

“I know that,” she sneered.

I let out a laugh. “Oh yeah? If you knew that then I wouldn't be the one taking you to school this morning. You'd still be at Granddad's.” _Hell, you probably wouldn't even be going to school this morning since Dad decided to slack off all of the sudden for no reason at all._ “Do you even know why you got in trouble?”

Freya hung her head. “'Cause I was chasing a cat into the street...”

“Ah, right. And what is it that you're never supposed to do?

“Go into the street.”

“Exactly, young one,” I teased.

A middle-aged man with a small boy walked passed us, beating us to the door. We were right behind him but he didn't bother to hold the door open and it closed right in our faces. Freya hurried ahead before me, planted both of her feet firmly on the ground and pulled on the door handle, struggling to the bring the door that was twice her size back. But she managed, of course.

She looked up at me like she'd just done something outstanding. I placed my foot in front of the door to hold it open, stuck my tongue out at her and jabbed my thumb in the direction of the foyer. Freya giggled and went on through as I stood back and politely held the door for several others like a doorman or something.

“Did you see the boy with the man who didn't hold the door open?” Freya whispered. Her whispers were loud, which totally defeated the purpose of whispering, but I didn't say anything. She strolled next to me through the halls very slowly, with reluctance, leading me to her classroom.

Looking down at her I came to notice that her brows were knitting. She literally looked like a female miniature version of Chris and I wanted to laugh, but I didn't because she looked serious. And if I laughed she probably would have glared at me like she was all big and bad and aimed all of what she was feeling at me.

“What about him?” I said casually, my eyes skimming over the rows of construction paper over the walls. It was some project that the kindergarteners worked on by the looks of it, pumpkins that they'd colored and “carved” with black marker for Halloween I suppose. Cute.

“You like him or something?” I nudged her arm teasingly.

“ _Ewww!_ Never. His name is Jacob. He's a mean person. My teacher calls mean people like him a bully, so that's what he is I think. He calls me bad things.”

Anger instantly welled up inside of me. “Like what?”

“It's a bad word. I heard you say it and I heard Dinah say it. I hear it on TV sometimes too.”

“What word? What does it start with?” I pried.

She hesitated. “I think it starts with B?” She glanced up at me curiously, then back down. But as she looked down I could see all of the emotion leave her face and her bottom lip kind of quivered and jutted out a little. “He said I was the U-word and his friends laugh at me.”

A knot formed in my throat. I didn't know what to say, and even if I did there wasn't a way I could say it without sounding like I was on the verge of tears. Whatever I wanted to say, it wouldn't be filtered, that was for sure. There wouldn't be a filter and there would be lots of A-words and F-words and B-words. Freya didn't need to hear that.

I halted, placed her back against the wall and dropped down to her height. We stared at each other, right in the eye and I smoothed down her hair. The outline of her eyelids were growing red.

“You mean _'ugly'_?”

She wiped at her eyes but didn't give me any kind of answer.

“Is that what you mean? He fucki – he called you that?” I asked once again, this time not so calmly.

I felt myself losing my cool. Literally. I was burning up, ire boiled through my veins and I swear I only saw red. Freya nodded and said, “Ms. Frost doesn't like when people say that word and we get in trouble if we say it.”

“Did you tell your teacher? Did you tell anybody?” I let my hands slide down her shoulders and gave them a small comforting squeeze.

Freya sniffled, and coughed a few times, right in my face but I didn't let it bother me. Right now all I was concerned about was beating that little bastard's ass into the ground. Unfortunately that wasn't legal so I would have to not only calm Freya, but calm myself before we advanced any further.

“I told Granddad and he let me stay home from school. Can I stay home from school today? Please, Aunt Lauren?” she pleaded, her sad eyes not even pleading like they usually do when she begged. They just looked sad.

My mouth fell open and I fumbled for the right thing to say.

“No. No, we're already here now. You can't just stay home. You have to go to school, it's the law.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that since I'm caring for you now the police could put me in jail for not bringing you to school.”

All of the sudden she looked at me like I'd just ripped Pablo the Panda's head off. Wide-eyed and incredulous, utterly appalled by this information. Kids, they knew nothing, hardly a thing.

I chuckled briefly at her reaction. “Yeah, it's bullshit, I know.”

A ghost of a smile formed at the corners of her lips, and then it grew wide, and wider. She covered her mouth and began to giggle, seemingly amused with my ability to use profanity without consequence, or maybe it was merely just the word. Who knows, but I laughed right along with her because seeing that light in her eyes once again was enough to rejuvenate me, to bring me back to life and forget about Jacob, that little dirtbag asshole in the making.

“You can't say that here!” she chided through a big ole grin.

“Bullshit,” I repeated, a little louder. “Absolute BULLSHIT. School sucks, why should you have to go? If I could, kid, I'd teach you everything you need to know; all of the things that really matter once you get cut loose at eighteen. This is only the beginning for you. You've got a lot to go through, and you know what? Most of it is BULLSHIT.”

The people who passed shot me nasty glares of disdain, guiding their children to the other side of the hall, but what did I care? Freya's laughter grew louder, and her smile was the light of my world at this very second. She was all I could stay concerned about and so what if the source of her laughter was something negative? As long as she was going into class with a smile on her face, I was content.

Suddenly, a woman appeared at the door beside of us and stopped. She gave me a stern look, clearing her throat to get my attention. I quickly stood upright. There was a look of horror on my face, so I averted my eyes elsewhere, pretending that I never saw her.

“Hey, Ms. Frost, this is my aunt Lauren,” said Freya, snickering. She grabbed my hand and eagerly yanked me forward.

“Nice to meet you, Lauren. I'm Jennifer Frost, Freya's teacher,” she said in that same overly enthusiastic way all teachers did when first meeting their students' parents or whatever the hell.

I had looked up to meet her gaze half way through her introduction. She looked to be in her late thirties, early forties, had a kind of stout figure and a generally kind face, or maybe it was just a good act. I don't know, I never trusted any teachers. Most of them were fake as hell. She extended her hand for me to shake and the contact was more of an awkward grab and shake of a few fingers than an actual handshake.

“Likewise,” I said, chuckling uncomfortably. “I'm Freya's aunt, as you already know. She's staying with me as of right now. From what I know, my dad didn't take her to school all of last week and I want to apologize for that. There was a uh, family problem...of sorts.”

“That is perfectly okay. I understand that this is a tough time in the family right now and it will be for a while, but it's okay. We'll welcome Freya back with open arms and get her caught up and everything. Not a problem at all.” Ms. Frost smiled warmly and I nodded. She then looked at Freya. “Sweetie, you can go on in and join the others. Everyone's missed you a lot –”

“Could you give us a minute?” I broke in.

“Sure.”

I guided Freya over to the side, bent over and sat a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to have a good day today, alright?” I tightened her backpack straps, and straightened her shirt, and fixed her hair.

She smiled slightly, nodding.

“What that kid Jacob said, you know it's not true, right? You're not the U-word. Not at all. You are a beautiful, beautiful princess. You've got those big brown adorable eyes, like chocolate. Everybody loves chocolate, and _whoaa,_ that smile you got there. Look at them pearls! You shine like the stars. No, screw that – like the sun, girl... Now I want you to go in there and blind them all. Especially that Jacob kid, and if he says anything to you today, tell him he's bullshit.”

Freya began to snicker, but I grabbed her shoulders and showed her that I was serious.

“I'm giving you permission, but you can never ever say that to anyone else but him. And only if he hurts your feelings. You say that to him and you tell the teacher, and you'll get in trouble, but at least he'll know about himself.”

Bringing her into a hug, I ran my fingers through her hair. She nodded, her chin on my shoulder. A bell rang suddenly and Freya let go of me.

“I think that means I have to go,” she said, pouting.

I sighed. “It does. Don't be afraid of that kid, you hear me? Anything happens and I'll come speeding down the highway. I'll see you at three, okay?”

“Okay, Aunt Lauren.” She backed away reluctantly. “I'll do what you said. He's not going to be mean to me anymore. Bye, see you later.”

We waved at each other until she disappeared around the corner. Ms. Frost gave me a friendly smile from the door.

“Ms. Frost, I'd like to talk with you briefly about something,” I said, sprinting forward.

She tilted her head to the side and said, “Yes? What is it that you'd like to address?”

“Well, uh, there seems to be a problem between one of your students and Freya. I believe his name is Jacob. She says that he and his friends are bullying her, that he called her ugly. She didn't want to come to school last week at all because of it, and she was concerned about it this morning as well. And I don't mean to be rude or anything here, but if it doesn't stop then there's going to be a real problem between me and whoever I have to face.”

Ms. Frost averted her eyes and sighed through her nose, her mouth tightening. It seemed to me that she didn't exactly know what to say to me. I squared my shoulders, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants.

“I can assure you that I had no idea this was happening,” she informed, her voice hollow.

“Well it's happening and it's the last damn thing my niece needs because she's five years old, just lost her parents, and already being affected by bullying. This is not something I want her going through. I understand it happens to everyone at some point, but it will not happen now, not if I can help it.”

We were nearly face to face. She looked threatened; her dark eyes were shining in surprise like before when she'd heard me swearing outside her classroom where children sat innocently. Taking a few steps back, I cleared my throat embarrassingly and grabbed the bridge of my nose. I even took myself by surprise. _Jesus Christ, what am I doing?_

“I will do something about it. This is not acceptable behavior in my classroom and there will be consequences to Jacob's actions. Okay?” Ms. Frost cooed in a calm yet wary manner. “And I need your number to contact you in case of an emergency or anything since I don't believe it is on record.”

I swallowed, losing the crazed look in my eyes. She pulled a small notepad out from her shirt pocket and picked one of the many pens hanging by the clip along her collar. _What a neat way, yet stupid fucking way to keep up with writing utensils,_ I thought. I began giving her the digits, and she jotted them down.

“I'll give you a call if I need to.” Ms. Frost smiled as I nodded and took a few steps backward.

“Thank you.”

I thought the conversation was over, so I swung around and started sauntering back down the hall, but then Ms. Frost grabbed my attention with a startling question.

“Your last name's Jauregui, isn't it?”

I turned, slowly, reluctantly.

“Yes. Lauren Jauregui,” I answered.

“So Freya's father was your brother?”

Rather nosy if you ask me. If I had the energy to get anymore crazy in here, I might've voiced my thoughts. Frankly, it was too early in the morning to get worked up over something so trivial.

“Yep.”

Ms. Frost nodded stiffly, a look of sympathy coming over her expression. She chewed her lip frustratedly, painfully, and then said what everyone else said. _“I'm sorry for your loss”._

 _Me too._ I kind of tipped my chin at her in response. I then spun around and made my way out of the school.

_You are not sorry. I am truly the one who is sorry._

* * *

Camila was sipping coffee at the dining table when I walked in, attention focused down on her phone. She looked up at me, smiling at the sight of the McDonald's bag. I brandished it high in the air and said, “Breakfast is served.”

I tossed it on the table before taking a seat.

“Thanks, Lauren.” She half-smiled, reaching for the bag. “I'll pay you back soon.”

“No need. I did it out the kindness of my heart.” Slurping down the rest of my caramel frappe, I leaned over the table top and somehow managed to heartily grin at her with the straw in between my lips.

“I appreciate that.”

Camila began rummaging through the bag of food, face nearly deep in it. Her eyebrows soon knitted in confusion, and she retrieved a few empty hashbrown packets.

“There are like, six of these in here. All empty. You and Freya ate all six hashbrowns?”

I froze, my eyes widening. “Um, no. She doesn't like those,” I hesitated.

“So you ate them all?” She looked like she was about to burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I did. Go ahead and call me a pig, Camz.”

Camila smiled real big, merely shaking her head as she tossed the empty packets back in the bag. I was tempted to tell her that I originally bought her one as well but decided to eat it on the way home. I didn't see the point in divulging that information though. My cheeks felt hot and all I could do at the moment was smirk down at my lap.

“You are too adorable.” She said it in a whiny kind of way, like I was so adorable that it hurt. “And now you're getting red, awww! Stop that, it's adorable!”

I shook my head repeatedly, rolling my eyes. “Do you ever stop teasing me, or is that what you live to do?”

She took a bite from her biscuit, chewed slowly, wearing this sly crooked smile. She looked me square in the face and nodded, then stood up.

“I like to see you get worked up over nothing.”

“Over nothing?”

“Mhm.”

I lifted my head higher in the air and moistened my lips, shooting her a steely, confident look. “When are you going to work?” I asked, feigning exasperation, and scoffed.

Camila was looking offended, and she soon glanced over me in a sassy manner. “Now.”

Groaning, I let my lolling head hang until my chin rested on my chest. “Thank the heavens.”

A small huff of breath emitted through her nose. “I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that,” she muttered.

She breezed on over to gather her handbag that was sitting on the bar stool by the bar and made her way for the door.

I turned in my seat, my arm now resting over the back of it as we held each others gaze. From the slightly puzzled look on her face I could tell that she was waiting for me to laugh to break the ice, but wasn't sure if she'd get that. She didn't let my volatile behavior take her by surprise anymore since I'd been acting somewhat moody lately. We did this all of the time, yet she still couldn't be sure of anything.

Even with tension in the air I still felt a gravitational pull towards her. Actually, the tension only made it worse. We weren't a couple, but in my mind it felt plausible. I honestly thought that if someone were to see us, the way we acted and how we teased and made fun, they'd think we were together. That or very, very close friends.

But not even close friends looked at each other like this. And if you're wondering what exactly 'this' means, it's not even something I could begin to explain. Just understand that is profound, and sickening, and frustrating, and lovely all at once. That's all I can make of it.

“I'm kidding,” I insisted, and hopped up. “I solemnly wish you could stick around. Fortunately – I mean, unfortunately, you can't.”

Camila cracked a smile, pressing her back to the door. She let her head fall backward, and her eyes roamed all over me as I broke the distance between us. She never tried to be inconspicuous with it, which made me wonder why I always made checking her out a big secret. I kept stalking closer. What I was going to do when we were merely inches apart was a mystery.

I wish I had the courage to just go out on a limb and kiss her, because now, I was certain that that is what she wanted. Then I thought about how easier making a move on her would be if I was intoxicated, or high. Everything's easier when you're not in your right mind.

Flirting always came easy to me, but with Camila it was a different story. She never made me nervous when we talked, or when we touched, or brushed past one another, but the thought of kissing her was frightening. It always had been. Maybe that was a sign or something.

“I get a kick out of teasing you too. I like seeing you think I'm mad at you, 'cause your eyes get all big and you look worried. It's funny.”

“No it's not,” she said, moving her head with her words.

“Yeah, whatever. When's your lunch break?”

She narrowed her eyes, biting down on her bottom lip. “One-thirty...”

“Oh, alright then.” I laughed gawkily, and self-consciously averted my gaze to her feet. “I was just wondering, because uh...I'm going exploring today, just going to drive around and take some pictures and I was thinking maybe I'd come by the library and – ”

“Keep me company on my lunch break?”

When I looked up Camila was still biting her lip, which made me pause and stare for a bit and focus solely on her mouth. My breathing faltered. I forced my hands into my pockets and pinched the back of my thigh as a _snap the fuck out of it_ method. It was very much in vain, so I just said “uhhh” until I could finally process the thought to nod.

_Nod, dumbass. Yeah, you can do that. You don't have to say anything at all. Just keep on nodding._

“Okay then.” Camila grinned with a certain evident giddiness that was just downright adorable. “I'll be looking forward to that.”

Even her eyes were grinning. I nodded some more until all of the excitement dwindled down to nothing but silence. She watched me as if she were asking if I had anything else to say. I gestured for her to go on.

“You're going to be late, don't you think?”

“Yes, but at least for a good reason. See you later, Lauren.”

I advanced toward the door as she walked out of it, stood in the doorway watching her dash down the hall without her knowledge. _What the hell did you just do? What in the hell are you doing? Finally following the advice people give you?_

_Perhaps._

* * *

“Okay, Camila, so the thing is, I think you're really pretty and want to kiss your face. Like – I want your face on mine...against my face and your skin looks soft so I want to touch it. I don't mean touch your arms or your hands either. I mean – your boobs. They're nice, and it makes me slightly uncomfortable when you talk about them and say that you think they're too small, because then I'm debating whether or not I should look at them right then and there while we're talking, but I think that if you let me see them, and maybe even fondle them, I won't feel as uncomfortable when you bring it up.”

It sounded sincere, yet humorous, which made it seem like a joke, but these were my actual thoughts coming right from the bottom of my heart. There was no way I could manage to say something like that to her and still remember how to breathe correctly afterward though...

“There are so many stars in the sky, Camila, so many to choose from, but you outshine them all. No matter what path I take I'm always lead back to you. The answer always seems to be you. I mean, the whole thing with Lacey, that was an attempt to somehow get you off my mind. It ended terribly, which is a good thing because I feel like that must mean something. And in a way, I feel like it brought us closer,” I said aloud, pretending she was right in front of me.

_Too corny._

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes as a gust of wind came by, then exhaled...

“I think we both share the same feelings for each other and I just wanted to acknowledge that. Dinah pretty much told me not to be a self-centered bitch and to actually show that I care about your feelings. I'm saying that I have feelings for you and knowing for sure that the feeling is mutual would make things easier, for the both of us. If you feel what I feel, let's just like, go to a movie, or a museum or something, because I think you like museums. You seem like the type. I just want to take off with you and soak up all the happiness and joy that radiates from you and your beautiful soul. Being next to you gives me this weird high and it is so potent, way potent. I just want to breathe the air you breathe, easily; without a shudder or care.”

A smile stretched across my features. Tears clouded my vision, but I wasn't sad. I guess maybe I'd never felt something so strongly. _That's it,_ I thought. _That's what I'm going to say to her._ I snatched off my backpack, pulled out a small notebook that I wrote work related things in, and frantically flipped to a clean sheet.

At one of Miami's most lovely parks, and personally my favorite place to come to, I was sitting under a few palm trees on a rock. People were scarce since it was a Monday, the sun was rising above my head second by second and here I was talking to myself. Except now, I'd figured out a way to not look mental to the people that walked by.

My pen shook in my hand as I poised the ballpoint to the first line. I went over it all in my head, everything I'd just said aloud to the imaginary Camila sitting across from me, and attempted to copy it down word for word so I wouldn't forget what I wanted to say. As much as that felt impossible, once I was finished, it also felt like I had gotten it all down. All the words seemed familiar, none were out of place. The wind caused my hair to smack me in my face, but I pushed it back on my head and smiled in content.

Maybe I could do this and not be deathly afraid. Maybe Dinah was right to adamantly encourage me to talk with Camila.

_No more talking to yourself. No more talking at all. Write it down. All of it. Everything is much easier that way. It's easier to convey things that way, and then all you have to do is hand it to her like a little letter. She'll read it thoroughly, from left to right, word by word, because she loves to read. And it will win her over, even if she doesn't feel as strongly as I think she feels. It'll win her over. It surely will._

So I wrote until my hand ached, and I wrote some more. The letter was three quarters of a page long because I felt that a whole page would be over the limit and come off as creepy. How much would a few more lines make? To you not much, but it felt right to stop there.

My penmanship was god-awful because I was in such a hurry to get the words down, so I determined that this one would be the rough draft and rewrote it, in pen. It seemed more permanent in ink, more profound because it simply could never be erased. Just like what I felt. What I felt could never be erased.

_Camila, to say I'm infatuated would be an understatement, although if you look that word up in the dictionary it would seem the most appropriate for my situation from some other person's point of view. I mean, we've only known each other for little over a month but, as cliché as this sounds, I feel like you've known me forever. At first I was a bit wary of your excessive kindness, but now I'm used to it and I realize that that's just how you are. So genuine and benevolent, considerate and lovely. I'm not sure what it is that I'm attracted to most. Your physical characteristics are just as beautiful as the ones on the inside. You're always there for me and I appreciate that so much, more than you know. You helped me get through the grieving process after losing Chris and you're still helping me, and now instead of having Dinah, only one person to turn to, I have you as well. Honestly, if I were you, I would have moved out of this crazy bitch's apartment by now, but you're not me; you're nothing like me, which is a total good thing, and you've stayed. That means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. Over the past month your existence has very much been a wonderful thing. I like your face a whole lot, I could look at it forever. I think we both share the same feelings for each other and I just wanted to acknowledge that. Dinah pretty much told me not to be a self-centered bitch and to actually show that I care about your feelings. I'm saying that I have feelings for you and knowing for sure that the feeling is mutual would make things easier, for the both of us. If you feel what I feel, let's just like, go to a movie, or a museum or something, because I feel like you like museums. You seem like the type. I just want to take off with you and soak up all the happiness and joy that radiates from you and your beautiful soul. Being next to you gives me this weird high and it is so potent, way potent. I just want to breathe the air you breathe, easily; without a shudder or care._

After reading it over continuously and rewriting it almost five times until it was absolutely faultless, I tore out the sheet from the notebook and folded it into a little square. I hoisted myself up with my legs and right arm so that I was able to slide it into my back pocket without having to fully stand. Now all I had to do was come up with the courage to actually look her in the eye and give this to her. This would be a whole lot easier than saying it all to her face, but still...

I immediately wanted to call up Dinah but I knew she was at work now. She worked at a salon, except she didn't do hair. She was a nail technician, doing pedicures and manicures, all that good stuff, including eyebrows. Which was good and all, but damn did I need a nice pep talk from my best friend. Also, I just wanted to see her, because apparently “a day without Dinah is a bad day”, as she'd always say.

The time in the car read 12:10. I retrieved my phone from my pocket and called Dinah as I fell into the driver's seat of my car. She didn't answer. No way was I going to that salon today. It was too noisy and the people there always acted so snobby. I didn't feel like losing my shit today. I already felt slightly unhinged.

Unsure of what I should do next, I sat quietly for the next ten minutes or so, sighing intermittently and absently watching people go by on bikes or strolling on foot.

Silence was becoming loud again, so I turned the radio on. And I kept twisting the knob responsible for controlling the volume to the right. By the time I realized what I was doing, the bass was almost deafening, but I didn't mind. Old Ruby started up with a prolonged roar, like she was struggling to come back to life. My forehead scrunched up as I turned the key with a determined force.

“Come on. You can't die on me too now,” I fretted, hissing through clenched teeth.

She struggled a little more, then started with a loud vengeance, even louder than the music. I grinned pridefully and drew back from the steering wheel.

“Hell yeah, bitch. That's what I'm talking about!”

Though the car had finally came through, I couldn't help but worry a little. This thing never gave me trouble. Sure, it had quite a lot of miles on it but I expected it to be fine at least for about three or four more years. _Maybe the battery's just weak,_ I thought as I careened out of my parking space. _I'll be damn lucky if that's all._

I wouldn't know. I didn't know a thing about cars. Who dealt with this thing whenever it gave me even the slightest bit of trouble? Chris. Either him or Dad, but most of the time it was Chris. That asshole helped me with a lot of things. You only truly acknowledge and appreciate something a person does once they're deceased or on the brink of being deceased, which is a shame. But hey, that's how it flies.

“I miss him,” I said aloud, unable to hear myself.

Balling my fist against the wheel, I released a long exasperated huff of breath and shook my head. I turned the music all the way down and repeated myself.

“I miss you, you asshole. Thanks for leaving me behind with just Taylor. She's turned so bitter these days. Either she's cold or she acts like a total robot. I guess she doesn't have any happiness left in her, which is something I can understand. Doesn't even feel like you're gone. It didn't at first. Just felt like I was going a couple of days without seeing you, which is normal. Now when I look at Freya I am reminded; constantly reminded that you are gone. Never returning again. But I'm okay with that. Just like I'm okay with everything. You know, not really okay with it, but still okay. Just numb...”

I went on my merry way, talking to just the air and I was okay with that. In a way, saying everything aloud was relieving and lifted a burden off my shoulders. I remember doing this often when Mom passed, but I'd forgotten how it made me feel. At some point, I forgot I was driving and I felt like I was just moving through time, floating. Things passed before me and I was in my own little world, spaced out, talking to Chris as if he were sitting right next to me.

What you call mad, I call comforting.

 

Not before long I was aimlessly roaming the aisles of a small convenience store, dragging my forefinger along the front of the rows that held candy and chips, good things of all sorts. I had my earphones in, music up high to drown out any sound. The guy at the counter had been eyeing me kind of funny ever since I'd sauntered in and shot him a glare of pure ice.

Either he was checking me out or he assumed I was up to no good. It was the latter, I'm sure. I wanted to look him in the eyes, nod at him and smile to give him the idea that I didn't mean any harm or ill-will, but that was something I couldn't promise.

Oh who am I kidding? I couldn't harm a fly.

I grabbed a handful of Twizzlers and Reese's Cups, because I loved those things and then hurried on up to the counter. The guy's gaze never left me, which only made me even more angry. I tossed everything on the counter and finally he looked down at it all splayed out before him.

“Will that be all?” he asked, almost snidely.

Jesus Christ, what a little jerk-off. I was tempted to grab the collar of his shirt and throw him against the clear glass shelf where all of the cigarettes and tobacco products were kept. It was quite the temptation, but I wanted to mock myself for even thinking it because there was no way I'd be strong enough to pull that off.

Cocking my head to the side, I chewed the inside of my cheek as my eyes averted to that very shelf. Cigarettes. Hmm. Waste of time. They made me jittery for the little time I smoked a few years back. Lung cancer seemed like a distant, faraway bitch that I didn't want to come in contact with any time, ever. I immediately shook that dumb urge away.

There was a liquor store just outside of the place though. I finally focused on the man once again, smiled a wry, halfhearted smile and nodded once.

I walked out of the store with a bag full of candy that I'd bought for no reason at all. Perhaps for just the hell of it. Twizzlers were the shit, though. And Camila liked Reese's Cups, so I figured we could share them in a little. I smiled as a sudden wave of giddiness came over me. I could feel the outline of the small folded piece of paper in my back pocket on my butt once I sat down in the car. Lovely.

The liquor store was just right outside the window now, which meant only a few yards between me and a few bottles of drunken euphoria. That sounded good. It sounded real good. But Camila would be expecting me soon, and I knew that as soon as I walked through the doors of that library and saw her face, this unhinged, empty feeling would cease to exist. There would soon be no void. Just a couple of miles stood between me and the filling of the painful void in my chest. The thought of my dead loved ones would soon stop haunting me for a little. That sounded good as well.

Driving off with a loud screech, the liquor store came into the rear view mirror. I leered at it, gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles were as white as they could get and said, “Maybe next time, old friend.”


	10. she's a fine few drinks of wine

I was leaning against the side of a bookshelf watching Camila put books back into their proper place. She was oblivious to my presence, and well, pretty much everything else. She had this faraway, yet determined look on her face, as if she was so taken with the act of putting away books. I found it intriguing, so I stalled getting her attention.

She was wearing that beige cardigan, the one I practically went through hell and high water to get back from Lacey. It swayed at her side below her hips as she moved busily, and the sleeves almost came over her knuckles. It was long and oversized on her petite frame, in a cute way.

Whenever she turned to the shelf I was standing by, I eased on back out of sight. Eventually I stalked forward again and peeped around it.

“Think you could get me a job here? This looks like quite the thrill,” I murmured.

I must have startled her, because she recoiled and gazed at me all wide-eyed. Snickering like the amused asshole I was, I held my hands up in the air and motioned them toward my face.

“It's just me, Lauren; your roommate.”

Camila gave me a look as he arms dropped down to her side. “I see you. Who do I look like, Hellen Keller?”

“You looked like you didn't even know what planet you were on.”

“I was lost in thought.”

We stared for a bit, unnecessarily. My arms were folded, eyes fondly examining all of her features. Every time I did this it felt like the first time. I still got that same feeling of wonderment, the one I'd gotten when we met up for the first time at the coffee shop. _How the fuck could someone look like that,_ were my exact first thoughts, followed by something along the lines of _It should be illegal to walk about the Earth with an ass like that._

I covered my mouth and averted my gaze, biting back a smile. Camila's eyebrows furrowed suddenly and, now all riled up, she said, “What is it?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head a thousand times, hardly able to hold back my grin. So I stood there with my teeth gritted, looking constipated. “Nothing at all.”

Camila pushed my shoulder, hard, a deepening grin upon her face.

“Ow. What?”

“That's for laughing at me.”

Holding my arm, I drew back as she came forward because she was always getting me with those surprise attacks. And who knows when she would strike next?

“Wasn't even laughing at you. You know, if I were as mean as you I'd hit you back. And I hit pretty damn hard, so consider yourself lucky.”

“Whatever. You're here kind of early. My break doesn't start until about fifteen minutes...” she trailed off, and craned her neck to get a glimpse of the clock on the wall on the other side of the big room first floor. “I would just leave now, but I want to see if I can finish this up really quick.”

“I can wait. Not a problem at all.”

I took a seat at a table over in the children's books section. The library was huge and very expensive looking. It was right in the heart of downtown so I guess it would only make sense for it to be all extravagant and whatnot. There were two floors, two escalators; one lead down on the left and one that lead up on the right, with a myriad of shelves in between.

A few people sat at the rows of computers over by the entrance, looking lifeless as the glow of the screen lit up their dull faces. Others ambled around silently in search for the perfect book. Maybe I should pick up one every now and then. At least that would be an excuse to come by the library a few times a week whenever I had time. Or I could always break my laptop in two on accident and come in here to use the really sweet looking desktops.

Scratch that. That sounded absolutely stupid. Come to think of it, this whole thing was kind of stupid. Why am I here? Truthfully. Because Dinah convinced me it would be a good idea to own up to my feelings and express them? Please, that hardly ever got me anywhere. All of my relationships have failed. Either because I felt too much or too little. Often it was the latter because I'm so selfish and only care for myself.

This time, the tables were turning. I was feeling way too much and unaware if the girl I'm going mad over even has feelings for me. I'm just going out on a limb? Now watch in the end this all unravels and I'm left majorly fucked up and knocked down. I'm talking so knocked down that I can't even pick myself back up. Ever.

But perhaps I was already on the ground, and Camila would somehow be the one to pick me up. Perhaps Dinah does know best. Perhaps Dinah really does know Camila like the back of her hand from past experiences and she does actually want me the way I want her? There's still a chance I could screw it all up, though. _Stupid, stupid letter. Trash it. Trash it right now while the thought is still fresh and unyielding in your mind._

Camila was whispering my name when I snapped out of my train of thought. She had her hand on my shoulder, I could feel it and I knew her voice so my head instantly whipped in her direction. Her face was only about an inch away from mine. I jumped again right along with the pace of my heart, startled.

At first she looked concerned, but she suddenly adopted an amused expression. I watched, dumbfounded, as her eyes lit up right before me.

“Am I really that ugly?” she joked.

Gulping, I sat up in my chair and swung my feet off the table. She looked to them in a dissatisfied manner, then back to me. Before she could say anything about my feet being on the table, I quickly sputtered, “No, no. You're not...ugly at all.”

My eyes narrowed incredulously, trained solely on her face. Nothing else mattered in this moment since she was so dangerously close. All of the sudden she pulled a look I felt was similar to mine, attempting to mimic me. Then she giggled and finally drew back. I exhaled.

I chuckled. “Just scared me, that's all. I was lost in thought.”

“We're both lost in thought today, aren't we?”

“I guess so.”

“What are you thinking about? You okay?”

“I'm great. Perfectly fine, really. We'll have plenty of time to talk thoughts while we're at Subway.”

Camila pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. “Subway?” she said.

“Yeah. You don't like Subway?”

“I do, but I was thinking maybe like, Waffle House or something. But if you want Subway then Subway's okay.”

“Waffle House?” I grinned crookedly and rubbed the back of my neck. “I don't know. I guess that's fine with me. Waffle House it is.”

She nodded happily and we both advanced across the library, side by side. As we were walking out, I asked, “So how long is your break?”

Camila bumped me with her shoulder, smirking. “Forty-five minutes, but if I don't come back it won't be a problem.”

“What the hell kind of job is this?”

“The people in there don't care. You probably saw two ladies at the desk but there's a hangout in the back where like, three other people are. We take turns doing things around there on days like these. Days where the really bitchy head librarian isn't in. Her name's Barbara, and believe me, she is a bitch. I don't use that word lightly. She's out sick today. So we can take our time.”

Her and I exchanged looks. Our shoulders kept coming in contact as we strolled down the sidewalk to her car, and I felt like she was doing it on purpose. Camila would nudge me and act like it was accident and stare straight ahead for a few seconds when I looked at her. Then she'd finally look to me, like she didn't know what was going on. An adorable cheeky smile would then spread across her face.

“Good, because I eat slow,” I said, looking off nonchalantly, pretending to be unfazed by her cuteness.

As we got into the car, my phone began to buzz. I pulled it out of my pocket and sat my backpack in between my legs on the floor. By the time I was ready to answer, the phone stopped going off. It was Castile calling apparently, and I imagined whatever it was that she wanted, it was about that ridiculous engagement party she wanted me to take pictures for this upcoming Saturday.

I really didn't want to discuss that right now, so I decided I wouldn't call back until later. But then I got a notification for a voicemail, and boy was I surprised to be hearing from Sadie instead of her mother when I pressed play. As soon as I heard her say, “Hi, it's Sadie. Sadie Castile”, I hung the hell up and deleted the voicemail right away.

_How's that for unprofessional?_

* * *

“– So I get up off the floor finally and I'm walking through this house. There's hardly any light in the damn place because it's like four in the morning and right when I reach the foyer, this chick comes out of nowhere, puts a bat to my head like it's a fucking tee ball, rams me into the wall and is twisting my wrist. This is the type of shit I have to deal with,” I raved, and quickly gulped down the rest of my soda.

“And that's not all. She starts accusing me of following her home. I'm confused and when I turn around it's the chick from this ice cream parlor in Boca that Dinah and Freya and I went to earlier in the day. I had hit on her at the parlor, so she thought I had followed her home. I mean what else are you going to think if you see some stranger you saw earlier roaming your house in the middle of the morning? What are the odds of that? That's crazy, right?”

Camila just shook her head, a modest half-smile on her face. “That is crazy,” she said. “Sounds like you had an interesting night that night.”

I snorted and gave her a pointed look. “Yeah, totally. Getting drunk with a snobby, slightly homophobic forty-something year old lady, getting mistaken for an intruder, almost getting my brains bashed out by a bat. Quite eventful.”

Camila was quiet for a moment. All this time she had been absently flicking a crumpled napkin back and forth with her finger while staring at me in awe and listening to my story. She glanced down at the napkin, then back to me.

“You should consider letting me come on the job with you sometime. ” Leaning over the table with a smirk, she added, “I think that would be a good experience for me.”

Slouching in my chair and shimmying around until I found a comfy position, I cocked my head to the side and reflected briefly. “It could be, but would you really want to follow me around while I take pictures of annoying strangers?”

“Sure. I see it as a chance to hang out with you.”

“We live together,” I emphasized. “I'd figure you get enough of me already.”

“I mean, hanging out with you in a different setting; somewhere other than the couch, watching Netflix after work. I like hanging out with you. You're fun to be around.”

I looked at her like she was crazy. “I am not.”

“You are,” she insisted endearingly. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I am a moping, grumpy, depressed little shit and you know it.”

Camila was swirling her last piece of the waffle that she ordered around in a pool of syrup on her plate, but she stopped to look at me in this soft, fond kind of way that gave me butterflies. It's like she was trying to convince me otherwise without actually using words and just that gaze alone. It was a familiar look. She did it often, but each time it took me by surprise and it was like seeing something so foreign.

She looked at me that way whenever she wanted me to do something for her, mostly. Like go make her some coffee while we're in the middle of watching my favorite series, or “can you please do the dishes this time, Lauren?”, and I'd do them too. Even if I was the one who had washed them the last time, which was rare. I was never the one who'd washed them last.

And I didn't give in to her because I felt bad for always letting her do that kind of thing. It was just because she had that kind of pull on me. If she asked me to do something I'd do it, even if I didn't want to. I just felt a strong need to.

God, she had me so weak. I wondered if she even had the slightest clue.

“You're never that way around me, so stop saying that.”

I wanted to say, “Because you brighten absolutely everything without even trying. That is one thing I can't deny and pretend not to be true”, but I just kind of smiled, and nodded halfheartedly in agreement. Well the nod was halfhearted, but the smile was wholesome. Genuine.

“It's so good to see you smile. This right here, this is fun. We should do this more often.”

“That sounds like a good idea, just not here. I'm not a big fan of Waffle House, I don't like “Sam”, our waiter, and the music in this joint sucks.”

“Well we could always ask him if he could change – ”

“No. For the love of God, do not call him over here,” I said through laughter.

Camila was laughing too, that annoying goofy laugh of hers. It was so obnoxious at times, but not the aggravating kind of obnoxious that makes you want to shoot yourself. I mean the addicting kind of obnoxiousness, the kind you can't get enough of. That contagious kind of laugh that makes you shit yourself when you hear it

“What is it that you have against that poor guy?”

The way he looked at her when he came up to the table to ask for our drinks when we first walked in, and the way he looked at her every time after that. My insides bubbled up with ire the first time, and the second time but I soon got over it, kind of. At first, it was like I was an overflowing pot that could barely be contained; like I was about to spill over. It was stupid of me to get so worked up, because Camila wasn't even mine.

_But the fact that you aren't hers didn't stop her from getting worked up over you and psycho-bitch of the year Lacey._

Well maybe I'm overplaying that too much. Maybe it wasn't even that type of jealousy. Maybe it was a friend fearing the thought of losing another friend to something like a significant other. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. I should stop caring. Actually right now, now that I think of it, I don't care.

_I'm just enjoying being here in the now with her. It doesn't matter right now if she likes me in that way because she likes me in this way, and her eyes shine bright with amusement and happiness when she looks at me because I'm fun to be around, and maybe that's enough. Just maybe..._

_Yeah, I'm always thinking that until all settles down and I'm left accidentally glancing at her lips and wanting to kiss them; until it's silent and there's nothing left to acknowledge but her face and the beauty of her entire being is so profound and loud._

“Hellooo,” Camila teased loudly, poking the tip of my nose.

I straightened my posture and shook my head, briefly exasperated with myself. “What is it that you were saying?”

“I said what is it that you have against the waiter?”

I shrugged indifferently like it didn't matter, because it didn't. Then I scooted out of my booth, stood up and whispered, “Watch this. Screw Sam, we don't need him.”

There was some old song that I could easily fall asleep to playing on the music box, and what this tune was about wasn't at all clear to me so it had to go. I casually made my way over to it, trailing my fingers over the glass and looking it over. It was big modern looking jukebox basically with a big square touch screen and a bunch of songs from the 2000s, some old classics, cool R&B tunes and such.

My eye finally caught something interesting after a few moments of scrolling through genres. There was some alternative and some recent pop shit. Then I came across a couple of Ed Sheeran songs.

“Dude, they have Ed on this thing,” I whispered back to Camila who was still seated at the booth watching me curiously.

Her expression switched up on me real quick. “Really?” she squeaked, and then covered her mouth abashedly.

Sheeran's _One Night_ started playing throughout the little restaurant. People gave us funny looks, even the workers because we were acting so lame. I was tempted to turn the music up louder and cause a scene before I danced back toward our table, but I figured that wouldn't be the right thing to do if we were going to pull off the devious thought I had in mind for later.

“Oh well, she's local girl; no make up 'cause she knows me well. Hair tied up in elastic band – ”

“With a kiss on the cheek for her one night man,” Camila broke in loudly without a care through laughter, mimicking Ed's strong accent.

“It's like the fast food, I'll regret it after...”

“And I needed money but I'm too shy to ask her.”

“So she buys me chips and cheese and I...”

“Tell her that I love her and she's all I need.”

We got too choked up on laughter to continue because I screwed up the verse after that. After we'd regained our composure and all we could hear was nothing but the music and the murmuring of quiet conversations, I thought about the ridiculous hand and arm movements she was doing while singing and started cackling all over again.

Laughing her ass off, Camila leaned across the table and shoved me as I mocked her. Everyone in this place probably thought we were wasted. She made me feel that way. She made me feel drunk, and I loved it.

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, grabbing her wrists over the table. “You know what we should do?”

A devilish smirk twitched at the corner of my mouth.

She grinned. “What is that?”

“You ever heard of dining and dashing?”

“No way are we doing that, Lauren.”

“Why not?”

“You are insane,” Camila whispered.

I shrugged casually, not fazed by her uncertainty because we were going to do it. She wasn't the only one who was good at persuasion.

“Tell me something I don't know. It's one of my best qualities.”

Her gaze went cold. “Do you not have any money?”

“Yes, I have money.”

“Then what's the point?”

“The thrill,” I said simply.

Camila finally pulled out of my grasp and we both sat back against our seats. Was that a sign of relent? I lifted my eyebrows at her in question. Her gaze flicked to something behind me and it widened, so I presumed good ole Sam was behind me on his way to give us the bill.

Unsure as to whether or not she was in or not, I tilted my head forward, staring at her until she finally mouthed “okay”.

 _Sweet,_ I thought to myself. I had it all laid out in my head.

“Are you two ready for the bill?” Sam, the waiter asked, all smiles.

Looking up at him, I feigned a smile myself. “Yeah, sure, and could I get a quick refill, please? Pepsi.”

He sat down the bill and went off to get a pitcher of soda.

“What are you doing?” Camila said nervously.

“Shh. Follow my lead.”

When Sam came back over to refill my cup, that was my cue.

I patted my pockets, looked around, and then began going through my backpack. “Think I left my handbag in the car, Camz...”

I nudged her foot underneath the table. Camila's eyebrows popped up and she looked around uneasily.

She chuckled in an awkward manner and said, “Wow, you're such a dumbass. How couldyou forget to bring it in? I thought you brought yours so I left mine in the car as well.”

I grimaced at the name-calling, my eyes narrowing. As jumpy as she was acting, I thought that she would have sounded rehearsed, but she actually didn't. It sounded plausible, and somehow the whole “dumbass” bit made it seem more real.

The waiter looked from each of us with a look on his face I couldn't decipher. For a second I thought he was catching onto our jive, but much to my relief he just smiled and walked off.

“Don't worry,” I muttered, scanning the restaurant. “I've done this many times before. Ask Dinah all about it. She got chased down an alley by this Chinese guy once with this like, big ass broomstick and he was threatening to beat her with it – man, that was classic, but don't worry about that because you're not going to be the one running.”

Camila managed to smile slightly, only for a second. “But what if someone chases you out?”

“They won't catch me. Now okay, we've got to act fast. You go out and park the car down the street. I'll start counting to fifty as soon as you leave out, so you've got to haul ass 'cause once I hit fifty I'm dashing. Go.”

She got up, hesitantly at first but she soon mustered up the courage to move with haste. I started counting in my head and nonchalantly pulled a single dollar from my pocket. After chugging down half my cup of soda, I stuffed the dollar deep down in it just for the hell of it, slung my backpack on and made a dash for the door just a few feet away.

I ran like the wind down the sidewalk and around the corner; all the way down the street to where Camila's little navy blue Honda Civic was parked. _When I said park down the street I didn't mean practically a mile away, dammit._

When I finally reached the car, my legs were on the verge of giving out. Before I could even close the door and get all the way in, Camila floored the gas and swerved off with a loud screech. I started wheezing out laughter like a maniac once I got situated. I turned around and sat in the seat on my knees, watching as the Waffle House sign got smaller and smaller as the distance grew.

“I cannot believe we just did that,” said Camila, staring straight ahead as if in shock.

She cut a turn sharp and we kept on climbing up the speedometer from there. Scenery zipped by like a blur and horns honked at us as we whizzed on by in and out of lanes. It was unnecessary, but I liked it. As long as she didn't kill us both.

“Damn, this little thing can move!” I hollered, still laughing. “Whew!”

Not before long, Camila started laughing too. And once she did, she couldn't stop. I slouched in the car seat sideways and wiped at the sheen off sweat on my forehead, continuously shaking my head from side to side.

“I can't believe we just did that. If the cops come and get me, I'm going to kill your crazy...” she hit me in the arm once. “– insane...” another shove and punch. “...self.”

I pressed myself against the door in an attempt to dodge her wrath. “The cops aren't coming to get anyone, and quit abusing me. Jeez, if anyone's crazy it's you,” I retorted, rubbing my shoulder.

With her eyes on the road, she blindly reached over and snatched the beanie off my head and tossed it into my lap. _She plays too much._ Groaning in aggravation, I grabbed it and decided to put it over her hair just to annoy her while she was driving. She didn't even mind though. It didn't bother her.

“You're going to let me wear it?” Camila asked simply.

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. I don't care, you fucking dork.”

“You know, it hurts my feelings when you curse at me.”

“I'm not being rude. That's my way of being endearing, but if you don't like it then I won't.”

She glanced at me and I felt my gaze softening inevitably.

“I don't.”

“Well then you can't call me a dumbass,” I said, admiring her profile.

“I won't. You're a smart ass, okay?”

I smiled at her, charmingly. “Thank you.”

We rode along in silence. Camila's lunch break was long over, but apparently she wouldn't be getting in any kind of trouble for it. That was a good thing. It was almost time for me to pick Freya up. While I was with Camila at the diner, I'd almost forgot that Freya existed. _I'm terrible. Or maybe I'm not. I tend to forget everyone exists when I'm with Camz._

“I still can't believe we did that,” Camila blurted, referring to our dine and dash.

The car came to a halt. We were in the parking lot outside the library, right next to my jeep.

Gazing out of the window, I sat there in a daze. “I'm glad we did it. I needed that.”

“The adrenaline rush?”

I looked to Camila impassively and said, “No, the exercise.”

She giggled like I had just said the funniest thing ever. Her giggles soon turned into that obnoxious, contagious laugh of hers and then we were in it together. How many times had we had these insane laughing fits so far today? I don't know. Did it matter? No.

Nothing mattered.

_She makes me feel so intoxicated._

If only I had the courage to just come out and say how I felt. If I only had the courage to risk all of this by confessing my feelings.

Maybe it was a good thing that I didn't have the bravado. _Maybe it's a good thing that I'm about to rip up this letter in my pocket as soon as I get in my car after saying our delayed goodbyes._

 

 


	11. i can hear heaven

The week went on, slowly but surely. There was the same routine in the morning now: waking up at 6:50, getting Freya dressed for school, making a small breakfast, driving her there and then coming back home to do a number of things, like editing pictures and sending them to clients, sorting out my planner.

Camila would just be waking up when I got back, and I would have to endure flirty smiles that made my knees go weak, and she would shove me around whenever I said something sarcastic, allowing her touch to linger a little longer than necessary.

It felt monotonous. Everything always felt so repetitive, but then again that's life. Weekdays were easy for me typically, whereas weekends were quite troublesome, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Camila seemed to have a way of making things bearable. She was full of surprises – like whenever she came into the kitchen in the morning, I'd sometimes be sitting at the table and she would ambushed me with a hug. And not just any kind of hug. Standing at my side, she would wrap her arms around me, squeezing me against her chest, her hands weaving and combing through my hair.

Maybe it was just my imagination getting the better of me, but things were changing. Things were changing between Camila and I, and I wasn't sure how to react. I hadn't divulged to her exactly how I feel yet. The letter I wrote was gone. Somewhere downtown in a thousand little pieces drifting across the earth with the wind.

I thought about kissing her one day – just grabbing her face all passionately, bringing her against me and locking lips with her for the longest like how it is in the movies. It's not just in the movies though, because I'd had romances like that – little stupid flings that were never meant to go any further than a couple nights of meaningless sex – but I had a feeling that this could be real.

I had a certain amount of respect for Camila that I can't say I've ever had for anyone else. I favored her. Attacking her with a kiss didn't seem like the right thing to do anyways, because I see that as an invasion of personal space, unless she gave me consent or something. But what if she slapped me? What if she... What if she hated me for it? I would go mad. I would despise myself for being such an idiot.

So, ultimately I had decided one thing. Kissing her out of the blue and using actions instead of words wouldn't be a good idea.

Sadie called me again Tuesday at noon. I lied and said I had never received her call or the voicemail she left me, which made me feel slightly guilty because she actually talked to me with some respect over the phone. I presumed it was just an act, because what person in their right mind is mean to someone they want something from? That quickly made me feel guiltless.

She wanted me to sort through a some pictures and take a few more for a modeling portfolio soon. She was supposed to be going to an open call at an agency in a few weeks, and though I pretended to care, I really didn't. Apparently she was pretty serious about this whole modeling thing. That was one thing she sounded interested in. Even if it was for five minutes that we talked about it, it was five minutes where she actually sounded alive and didn't talk like an emotionless robot.

This morning after taking Freya to school, instead of making a cup of coffee and slouching over the computer desk in my office room, my bed and I spent some extra time together. That was that, the extra rest was lovely and now it was over. Now, I was parked outside of the Castile residence, wondering why did it have to be me.

Sadie hated me (for some unknown reason that I'm not sure of), so it had to have been her mother who put her up to calling me for the job.

I got out of the car and walked up the familiar driveway, and past all of the rosebushes, and up the steps to the porch. My phone played a little tune as I rang the doorbell. It was Dinah's ringtone. I hurriedly retrieved it from my pocket and answered.

“Hey, Dinah, talk to me,” I said happily and chuckled.

“I miss my best friend. Where are you?” she asked in a somber tone. “I'm at your apartment and I'm eating your ice cream.”

“I miss you too, babe. You've been a stranger these past couple of days and – wait, eating my ice cream? How did you get in?”

Dinah was quiet for a moment. “Remember that time you gave me your spare key?”

Sadie suddenly appeared behind the opening door. She half-smiled briefly and jerked her chin up at me. I quickly looked her up and down without realizing, and then walked past her into the house, too engrossed in my phone call to greet her.

Through laughter, I said, “No, Dinah, actually I don't. I had a spare key that wound up missing a few weeks ago though.”

“Yeah. I took it. Where are you?”

_Oh, of course you did._ “I'm at a client's house. Why do you sound like that? Are you – ”

“Since you're at a client's then we can talk later once you get home. I'll be here, if that's good with you, which it is,” Dinah muttered, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “And I'm fine, don't worry about me.”

“When you say 'don't worry about me' like that I know there's something to worry about, and don't even do that little chuckle and try and convince me you're okay. What's up, bitch? Spill.” I held up a finger in Sadie's direction and mouthed, “One second.”

With her tongue in her cheek, Sadie raised her eyebrows slightly as if she'd just been disrespected. I faced the wall and mocked her expression with my back turned.

“Lo, I am fine. Just go do your job. Sorry I interrupted.”

“Interrupt – you didn't interrupt jack-shit, we haven't even started anything yet. I could cancel this if you need me. You don't sound too happy. You don't...sound like my Dinah.”

Dinah huffed out an exasperated sigh. “I'm fine, and I am hanging up now. Go do your job and get that green, you overly considerate cute bitch.”

“I'm only overly considerate for my best friend. You know I'll do whatever for you, if there's something wrong... I mean, there has to be, you're not even at work today.”

“I have the day off. I rarely work on Thursdays.”

“Oh, yeah, that is right. Well, I love you. I'll be home soon.”

“Love you way more.”

She had hung up before I could say anything else. When I turned around to look for Sadie, she was standing with her back against the door, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling in a way that clearly indicated that she was patiently waiting but still growing impatient.

“That was probably a bit unprofessional. Sorry about that,” I said halfheartedly.

Her head lolled around until her chin rested on her chest. She looked at me in this cold, disinterested manner and replied, “No, it's fine, because it was totally an important phone call.”

I couldn't tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.

Sadie headed out of the foyer with her head held up high, brushing past me on the way, and motioned for me to follow her.

“It's kind of funny,” she blurted and swung around, smiling to herself. “I thought you were talking to a significant other of some sort and I was like, 'wow, she calls her significant other a bitch', then I heard you say 'best friend'.”

I had jumped when she turned around, because it was unexpected and I almost ran into her. Sadie noticed it, but didn't comment on it. I just smiled really big at what she said, nodding slowly like a dork until she started walking again.

We cut through a long hallway and the kitchen, where their wine collection taunted me and brought back memories of last Saturday night. I almost laughed aloud, but stifled it because I didn't want Sadie to get on my case again for getting drunk with her mother. That was something she obviously didn't like.

As we were going through the kitchen, since my eyes were everywhere except in front of me where they should have been, I ran into a bar stool, fell on top of it so that it toppled over and when it did I went along with it.

The first thing I did upon realizing that I didn't break anything was look up at Sadie. She was staring at me in disbelief, in awe it seemed like, and I imagine it wasn't the good kind of awe.

“Are you kiddin' me?” she said.

I climbed up off the chair, casually dusting myself off. “It was uh...it was an accident.”

Sadie took a small step backward as I stood. Turning her head to the side, she covered her mouth. She was laughing at me, no doubt about it. She turned around and continued out of the kitchen. I hastily put the chair back in its proper place and jogged to the catch up with her.

We made it out to the poolhouse without anymore accidents on my part, fortunately. She made a joke about me slipping by the pool on our way in and told me to tread lightly. It wasn't funny, but I only laughed because she seemed serious most of the time and this was as humorous as I'd seen her get before.

The poolhouse was pretty spacious. There was a flatscreen mounted up on the wall, a fireplace below it. I slowly walked forward, looking all around the room to take it in. This one room wasn't even all of it, but I knew Sadie wouldn't be up for showing me around.

Without a word, she went inside this room while I stayed put by the arm of the couch. I craned my neck to get a good look inside the room. It was a bedroom by the looks of it – pretty roomy too. God, these people had it made. Gaming consoles, flatscreen TV, a fireplace, kitchen and a full bedroom all in a pool house. Not to mention to the huge living area I was currently standing in.

Sadie emerged from the room with a binder tucked under her arm. I found myself staring at her as she advanced towards me, but soon snapped out of it. I averted my gaze sharply and pretended to be admiring this painting on the wall directly behind her. Sadie sighed lightly and shook her head, which lead me to believe that I was fooling no one here.

She was gorgeous – undoubtedly. She attained such a complex beauty, as in I didn't know what it was exactly that was so beautiful about her, but it was just there somewhere. Perhaps it was the way she walked... No, it couldn't have been that; she was standing still the first time I saw her.

Her eyes. Yes. It was all in that area, everything that attracted me to her. The way they were shaped, the way they held nothing yet everything all at once.

“Okay,” she said as she sat down on the couch. She slowly turned her head to look at me upon realizing that I hadn't budged ever since she had walked back in. “You can sit now.” Her voice was patronizing and she talked slowly, like she thought I was stupid.

I swallowed. “Sorry, I was just looking around the place...”

“Yeah, you were just looking around the place. Totally.”

When I took my place next to her, Sadie was still giving me a nasty look. I grimaced and said, “What? Jeez.”

She lowered her gaze down to the lack of space between her thigh and mine, then looked back to me expectantly. With a loud exasperated sigh, I jerked myself up and scooted over a few more inches. The look of disapproval on her face soon evaded.

I scooted over some more until I was on the end of the sofa. Sadie cut her eye over at me while all I could manage to do at the moment without losing my temper was frown and bite down on my tongue.

“How does anyone take you seriously?”

“Let's get this straight right now. I can only take so much bullshit from a person, and I am about to snap on you,” I said lowly, my voice hollow.

I immediately regret the words that shot out of my mouth. When I'm angry I tend to have no filter. She stared at me with her mouth slightly ajar, a taunting gleam in her eyes. She thought I was funny. She thought I was a joke. The edge of her mouth quivered, not with apprehension either. She was about to laugh.

“Well, excuse me.” She softly tugged at her bottom lip.

Speaking of her lips, she did a lot of things with them. She pursed them tightly while in a state of reflection, bit either one of them when she felt herself catching a bit of anxiety, or when flustered. She had them painted in red lipstick too. It was distracting.

She looked off haughtily and began situating the binder on the coffee table in front of us. I nonchalantly leaned back in the crook of the sofa, watching her move in disdain.

“I can't possibly be the most intolerable client you've had,” said Sadie, pausing to look at me in search for a response. “Would you talk like this to any other client?”

“You fucking bet I would.”

She squinted her eyes reflectively down at the floor. “Wanna know the truth...Lauren?” she asked, and looked back to me with her head cocked to the side now. She was giving me that patronizing look again, pressing her lips tightly together for a brief moment as she studied my face. “I get a bad vibe from you. I sense that you are reckless, and childish, and irresponsible and you are also arrogant. Those are never good combinations.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked, smirking and bending forward.

“It's in the way you carry yourself.” She stared at me a moment, intently. “You're easy to read.”

_So I've been told._

“Nonsense. I'm a good girl. Your mother thinks so.”

She snorted derisively, covering her mouth. “Patricia is pretty dumb for a lawyer.”

“Or maybe I'm just good at deceiving.”

“No, she's just dumb. You didn't fool me any. I bet I could read you like the back of my hand.”

I didn't say anything to stop her from going any further. Big mistake. Sadie played with the end of her fishtail braid as she glanced around the room, seemingly trying to gather up assumptions about me. Assumptions that she would pull right out of her ass.

“You've been in jail before haven't you?” she speculated.

No sign of a smile on her face, honest to God. This was a dead-ass question.

I looked at her like she was crazy. “No. Why would you assume that?”

“You got a temper, I can tell. Was just wonderin' if it ever got you in any trouble.”

My brows furrowed. “I don't have a temper. It's just...you. You could drive someone crazy,” I insisted.

Sadie was getting a kick out of this. “Am I driving you crazy?” She giggled inwardly, a smile spreading across her lips.

What a surprise. It seemed like she was relenting, all of the sudden going easy on me. She was so spontaneous. I never knew what to expect, never had any clue on how she was going to react to things.

I chuckled and brought it upon myself to open the binder that was laying on the table, because by the looks of it she wasn't going to stop gazing and giggling any time soon.

“You know, when I made a big deal about you sitting next to me I was just joking,” Sadie muttered.

Disregarding her, I snatched the portfolio closer to me and began going through it. In my peripheral I could see her watching me, waiting for a response. She sighed and repositioned herself closer to me on the couch. She had her legs curled back and was sitting on them with her arm resting on the sofa's back.

I flipped through the laminated pages in her portfolio. We never got around to discussing what kind of model she intended to be, so best believe I was surprised when I came to find that she was scantily clad in a few of the photographs.

There weren't many to look at. One in particular caught my eye though. It was a full body shot. She was wearing just a bra and panties, of course – they were light pink lace with a black bow in the middle of the bra – and she posed with her hands tangled in her hair, and her head held high. Her eyes were seducing the camera. She looked right into it, like it was her own personal bitch.

Sadie owned the camera. It was sexy. She had a distinct sexiness about her.

“What is it? You're making me nervous not sayin' nothing. Stop looking that way,” she chided.

Her and I exchanged a glance, but then I looked back down due to discomfort. That didn't help any because I was faced with the pictures once again, and the sight of her in lingerie, which lead to even more discomfort. The person who edited the pictures did something to make the color of her eyes pop. I never realized they were that color.

I looked at her again, here in person, right next to me. She had an odd hazel thing going on. Greenish brown, but more brown at the center than green.

“You're going to catch flies, Lauren.”

My eyebrows raised at the way she said my name. It sounded funny, because she had that funky southern accent, but it was also alluring in a way. She drew the two syllables out, made my name sound longer than it actually was. I wanted to hear it again, but I think if I told her to say it another time she'd accuse me of flirting or something ridiculous of the like.

So instead, I decided to keep things relevant and stay on topic.

“What kind of model is it that you want to be exactly?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”

“Hmm.” I looked over the pictures once more. “I can't tell. Either an underwear model or a pornstar, I'm guessing.”

Sadie blinked at me, an incredulous twinkle in her eye. “An underwear model,” she said sharply.

I smirked down at my lap for a few seconds, then leveled my gaze on her again. “Like a Victoria's Secret model or something?”

She simply nodded.

“So you must like taking your clothes off?”

Sadie started laughing in a coy manner, her cheeks reddening. She tried to stifle it at first but failed, and although she was smiling, she managed to venomously tell me, “shut the hell up”. I just smiled.

“Who took these anyway?” I questioned, referring to the photos. “They're really good.” I paused to glance from the picture to her again. “You're eyes look nice in these.”

“This photographer I'd hired back in Louisiana. Some guy, I don't know.”

“They're very nice.”

“You've already said that, pervert. Now let's move on.” She snatched the binder off of my lap.

I felt rather sheepish all of the sudden, like I could start blushing at any given moment(I was notorious for that); like if I were to speak again I'd stutter or say something inappropriate. Chances are, she'd like it anyway. She could play like she didn't like me because of the “bad vibe” I gave her all she wanted to, but at the end of the day she would totally let me get her in bed.

I wasn't stupid. I knew she found me attractive. That whole random giggling thing a few minutes ago after constantly treating me like trash? There are some things you just can't mask. She was putting up a facade, but I could see right through it.

“I don't mean it quite like that. I mean that the quality of the photos are nice. The lighting, it's great. He did a wonderful job,” I said.

“Well, hopefully you can do better. I went on your little website and I don't quite believe it's you who takes those pictures.”

“Who else would have taken them?”

“I dunno. Photography just doesn't seem to suit you. I don't see you as a photographer. I see someone like you as like, a writer or something. You look like you write poetry.” Sadie looked up in reflection a moment, then back down at me, smiling delightedly. “Do you write poetry?”

“Rarely. I used to, as a teenager.”

She perked up, her eyes widening. “I knew it. You just look like you have a lot to say, and like you don't always do so verbally. My pops is a writer, but he doesn't do it for living or anything. He just writes in his free time.”

I looked over her face, my gaze growing soft, in a fond way. Sadie was still smiling. She had a pretty smile, an innocent smile. I was pretty sure that she'd gotten away with a lot of things because of her looks and that smile alone.

“You get along with your father?” It was a question, but came out sounding like a statement.

“I do. Better than I do with Patricia.”

My eyebrows automatically pulled together in a frown. She merely laughed and shrugged her shoulders. I shook my head in disappointment, combing my fingers through my hair.

“Why do you call her by her first name? You call your dad 'pops', so why not call her 'mom'? I think it's kind of, you know, mocking her role as a mother.”

Sadie gave me a knowing look. “Because I don't like her,” she said, point blank. “She doesn't like me. I don't like her.”

Castile undoubtedly didn't approve of the fact that her daughter was gay, but from the way she talked about her, I could tell she loved every other part of her. She didn't like the so called sin and the dumb decisions she'd made, like not going to college, but the rest of her was loved dearly.

Why couldn't Sadie see that? Maybe it was because Sadie was barely twenty and still had an immature mindset. I saw it in the way she treated her mother, and me. Who treats a complete stranger like shit? Even if you don't take them seriously or if you find them attractive. That's middle school antics. We are long over with the being bitchy and giving the cold shoulder to certain people for certain reasons, whatever they may be.

We should be at least.

“I don't think that's true,” I retorted. “Your mom does like you.”

“What the fuck do you know?” Her tone was sharp, and frantic. “Tell me. What do you know about me and my ma – Patricia's relationship other than what she told you?”

Feeling slightly defeated, I shrugged with indifference. “You're right. I don't know shit.”

Normally I wouldn't have surrendered so easily, but I didn't see the point in arguing with her. I had to at least try to be the mature one.

Sadie's icy gaze was thawing now, her perfectly arched brows separating. I nonchalantly stood up from the sofa and stretched, moaned out a sigh of relief as my joints and muscles tensed up.

“What are you doing?” Sadie asked urgently.

She craned her neck to watch my every move as I wandered around the room. I halted abruptly and fixed her with a not so friendly glare.

“Was going to ask you where the bathroom is, but you were having a fit so I'm going to go find it myself,” I stated.

To my surprise, Sadie had adopted an apologetic expression, kind of. She wouldn't say sorry though. But who knows? She was as unpredictable as the weather.

Turning her back to me, she jabbed her thumb toward the kitchen. “Right over there. The first door by the kitchen area. Not my room, which is the second door. Don't go into my room, please. It looks like a tornado went through it.”

The bathroom was all elegant looking. It smelled like the strong perfume Sadie was wearing. I'd been meaning to ask her what it was, and I'd also been asking myself what the hell did I care, but I was a sucker for a girl who smelled just as beautiful as she looked, so I just had to know. It wasn't any type of fruity scent; neither did she smell of cinnamon like Camila.

It smelled expensive. Like a high price name brand fragrance.

After I finished my business, I wound up at the sink clueless as to what to do next. There wasn't a knob of any sort and it took me a while to realize that it was one of those motion detector faucets. The kind you had to wave your hand under for it to come on. Sweet. I played with it for a little while, making it come on and off.

The vanity mirror was before me. I looked straight into it, examining my face and everything about myself. Sometimes I had these moments where I would stare at my reflection as if it were the first time I'd ever done so and wonder about who I really was. _Who is Lauren Jauregui? What defines Lauren Jauregui?_

My thoughts were peculiar like that.

I straightened my army jacket over my shoulders, fixed my hair and all of that. It was a shame that Camila still hadn't gave my beanie back and had been wearing it like it was hers for the past two days, because it would have done my outfit well today.

Camila. I pictured her stacking books back in their proper place on the shelves, wearing my beanie. I shook my head and smiled at the thought of her.

I pulled at the vanity mirror and it came undone. There were a couple of shelves inside with a bunch of necessities stacked on them. Things like hair care products, face creams, toothpaste and a few pill bottles. _Pills..._

A voice in my head said “close it right now”, but I didn't want to listen. My throat tightened as part of me hoped they were nothing but shitty antibiotics while the vile half of me that would go to despicable lengths to get my hands on a fix hoped they were narcotics; strong ones that would peacefully take me to the moon.

I didn't have anymore at home because I threw out my stash. Dinah's orders.

There was a rap at the door that made me jump out of my skin.

“You okay in there?” said Sadie from the other side.

My eyes lowered to the unlocked doorknob and I instantly closed the mirror, a little too loud. I wildly scrambled to the door. I don't know why, it's not like she'd open it while I was in there. But you never know?

“Yeah, I'm okay. Just admiring your bathroom. This shower is really nice,” I said loudly while locking the door. Hopefully the sound of my voice drowned out the click of the lock.

“Uh, I guess so.”

I hurried on back to the mirror. “Yeah, I'm like, in love with it. I'm just finishing up. I'll be out in a minute and um, then we can discuss a photoshoot place. I have the perfect place on the beach in mind.” I made the water come on to block out any sound and began scavenging. “I say the beach because I'm hoping we could get some more shots of you half-naked. Since you like taking your clothes off and all. I'm sure we'd both enjoy it immensely.”

“I'm going to punch you square in the mouth when you get outta there.” Sadie sounded distant, which was a good thing.

“Kiss your knuckles before you do it,” I hollered, and chuckled to myself halfheartedly.

There were three pill bottles. One of them was an antibiotic, the other an anti anxiety medication, and the other one...Well, the other one was a painkiller. Half full. Prescribed just a few months ago to **Sadie Castile** and – ah ha, capital **P** for **Percocet**. What a joy. I opened that pill bottle and popped two in my mouth before I could even register what I had done.

_They're in your mouth now. It's too late. Just take them. Fucking take them._

I slapped the motion detector thing for the water to come on impatiently, and stuck my mouth under the faucet and let the cold liquid fill my mouth. I had difficulty swallowing them at first – it's like my own body knew it was morally wrong to take medication that wasn't mine and was refusing. My conscience held me back for a few more seconds until I eventually forced them down.

Those anti-anxiety pills could have came in handy as well, but I decided not to overdo it. Theft is already bad, but greed is a terrible little thing.

After carefully placing the bottles back in their exact spots on the shelves, I closed the vanity mirror, cleaned the mess of water on the counter I'd made and walked on out. I felt a surge of happiness and relief course through my veins for what was about to come. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and was now slowly flying away off in the distance never to return again. I felt weightless.

Sadie was seated on the couch with her legs crossed, still going through the portfolio. What vexed me was the fact that there were only two pages. It quickly occurred to me that she liked looking at herself.

I don't blame her.

She glanced up at me as I rounded the couch to take my seat. “'Bout time.”

“You don't have a bit of patience, do you?”

“Nope,” Sadie said smugly, her head high. She gave me a look that suggested she knew she annoyed me, but didn't quite give a shit.

“Alright,” I sighed as I shimmied out of my jacket. I placed it on the arm of the couch and solemnly locked eyes with her.

She looked puzzled, as though she didn't know what to expect. I widened my eyes dismissively as she continued staring in silence. Though she said nothing, her expression screamed, _“What?"_

“...Let's get professional about this. I'm getting a bit bored with your face.”

* * *

Sadie swung around flamboyantly, in nothing but her undergarments. For whatever reason, she was pretending to walk up and down a runway. At this point I wasn't even listening to the nonsense anymore. It had become difficult to sort out what was nonsense and what wasn't, so actually I stopped listening to all of it. Just watched, in a euphoric haze, with my hands linked behind my neck.

And I would nod and smile to whatever she said because it was so easy now.

“You know something? I was thinking 'bout this pose...” she paused to do a pose with her hands a little above her hips, her head tilted to the side and her lips parted. Then she ran to go get something, and I started giggling to myself at how serious she was about this. She slid back into the room, gliding on her socks until she was in front of the arm of the couch, facing me, and brandished a pretty burgundy dress. “With this outfit, and my hair like this because I love it like this, and like, some lipstick to match but not that much foundation, because I really want to show off my natural beauty.”

I nodded. “Nice,” I murmured groggily, and tried to sit up straighter, but failed.

Sadie looked irritated all of the sudden. “Is that all you think? Really, tell me what you think. Do you think I have potential to be a model? The casting call is two weeks from now, Lauren and I really just need someone's honest opinion...”

I smacked my lips, looking around the room vacantly. “Honestly, does my opinion really matter? Why should it? Do you want to do this?”

She nodded immediately without a morsel of hesitation.

“Ah-ha!” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers in the air. “There you have it. You do whatever the fuck you want. Don't ask me. Don't ask anyone else what they think. I mean, come on, you know you're pretty enough, right? You know your body's in _wonderful_ shape. You take good care of it. You work out. You were born with great looks.”

She was hugging herself, her eyes trained on me. Sadie looked unsure all of the sudden, but she kept on nodding.

“Your mind tricks you sometimes. Why do you think some people think their great and others can think the person isn't so great?” Sadie said, grimacing slightly.

My mouth opened, then closed again. I could see that I was on the verge of letting her down. This was serious to her and truthfully, in this very moment, I cared. It was fake, induced by the godly euphoric state I was currently in, but damn did it feel so real. I had to think of something to say, something to make her believe me. Her eyes were hopeful.

“Y-you think good of yourself, am I right?” I stuttered, pushing my hair back out of my face and moistening my lips. “And so do I. That makes two people, and that's pretty damn good, eh? I'm sure there are plenty of others who think you've potential as well – like your dad, your brothers...your mom.”

Sadie's gaze danced across the floor. “Yeah. Thank you.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “No need to thank me.”

“Anyways, I was thinking maybe an all black background would look nice with this one, with this outfit and particular pose, and then we could capture a swimsuit photo on the beach or something,” she suggested. “Can you write that down?”

Shaking my head, I scribbled down _white background, burgundy dress, awkward looking pose, hair in braid. Swimsuit photoshoot on the beach (yummy)._

“All of that sounds great, but actually I think a white background would look best.”

“Thanks for putting in some input, but I think otherwise.”

I looked at her long and hard, and she looked at me with the same hint of annoyance in her gaze. She threw her hands up in aggravation, tossing the dress to the side as she stomped off. I jumped up from my spot on the sofa, trailing after her in desperation.

“Let's not frustrate ourselves with decisions here, Sadie. We have plenty of time to think it over,” I said calmly. “Or, we could just forget all about backgrounds and do the shoot in some artsy place downtown. I'll think of something.”

She swung around right as she stepped into her bedroom, causing me to shrink back. She gave me that up and down look, the one she did when she thought I was on the verge of crossing her. One thing I'd learned about Sadie right from the start is that she did not like being disrespected. Needless to say, I respected that.

Would I had I been sober? Absolutely not.

“Don't worry,” I muttered, averting my eyes because she'd been staring into my soul ever since she turned around. “I wasn't about to come in."

Sadie smiled, pleased. “When you learn your boundaries, Lauren,” she said. “Sometimes you get the opportunity to exceed them.”

I simply rolled my eyes, then shot her a snide smirk, pressing my hands to each side of the door frame. “You make it seem like it would be an honor to enter this crap of a room you got here."

“You are the biggest asshole I have ever met.” First insult of the day where her voice wasn't laced with pure contempt. She said it playfully – like how Camila did when she and I were slinging insults.

Perhaps I was getting somewhere?

“I speak my mind.”

“So do I.”

“Maybe that's why we don't get along to well at times. We're both bitches,” I slurred, and pushed past her to get in.

I whirled around to smile at her mockingly, swaying from side to side as I eased backward. Moving felt so good, so I kept on swaying. My skin caught goosebumps. Sadie had her arms folded snugly, her face blank and eyes dull with indifference. Her demeanor changed up so quickly.

Once she was done staring me down, she casually sashayed toward her dresser.

The thing is, with Sadie, I could never discern what she was feeling whenever she stared at me. That was frustrating, because she could either be plotting my murder or thinking about having raucous sex with me. She was aware that I couldn't read her and she obviously took advantage of that.

I sat down at the foot of Sadie's bed with hesitance. She glanced back at the sound of the bed, and to my surprise she didn't say anything. She slipped back into the skirt she was wearing before she started changing into various outfits. Did I mention that she'd been walking around the house in just her undergarments in between outfit changes?

When she first stripped down, my jaw dropped and my eyes got all round, but then she pointed out something that made a lot of sense. _“You saw the pictures of me like this, so why is it such a big deal now?”_

“ _But now it's in the flesh, not on a piece of paper,”_ I wanted to say, but just clamped my mouth shut and shrugged and shook my head simultaneously.

I was used to seeing her that way by now, but that didn't stop me from staring while she wasn't paying attention. Sadie had a beautiful body; she was a bit tanner than me – _who wasn't?_ – and she wasn't necessarily curvy at the hips, but I'll just say that the upper portion of her body was heavenly.

She faced me, catching me off guard. All of the sudden I felt uncomfortable, sheepish even, and I felt weird knowing that I was still looking at her, but my eyes wouldn't catch on to what I was feeling. She was fixing her sweater – it was inside-out.

“Do you mind helping me with my hair?” she asked, distracted. “Getting it out of this braid for me?”

My eyebrows quirked up in surprise as I pointed a thumb at my chest.

“Is there anyone else in the room, doofus?”

I stumbled on over, my gait crooked and hands in my pockets, and as I approached her I appeared in the vanity mirror in front of us. I stared at myself in it, dazed, distracted. My eyes were glossy and red, my pupils fine little dots. Ultimately, I forgot why I even got up in the first place.

“Lauren?” Sadie was standing in front of me, eying my reflection suspiciously. She turned half way to study me up close. “What's the matter with you?”

I unclenched my jaw as her and I locked eyes. It then dawned on me that I had spaced out, and also had been clenching my jaw for several minutes now. It was a common side effect of the painkillers, and because they were so potent, I couldn't even feel the tiredness or aching of my face muscles. I was numb. My whole body was numb.

As for my emotions? Either they were intense, or they didn't exist at all. That was always the deal whenever I was inebriated. And right now I was feeling something so fervid, it left me speechless. Being this close to Sadie and absorbing her warmth, taking in her exquisite scent...

It was lust. A hot ferocious lust for her, and very faintly did shame pang at my conscience, but I disregarded it. It was so easy to just push it to the side, and that's exactly what I did.

I placed my hands on her bare shoulders, looking into her mesmerizing eyes in the mirror, losing myself in that pool of greenish-brown. She warily stared back at me through her lashes. I began undoing her hair, started from the bottom and slowly worked my way up.

When it was all loose, Sadie shook out her long chocolate brown hair and ran her fingers through it. She stopped doing so, and that was when I made a brazen move and stroked it tenderly. She didn't recoil, or give me any nasty looks, or utter anything bitchy. In fact, she said nothing.

Her hair was wavy and felt like silk. Her perfume lingered in the air around me, around us, in our own little bubble of space. God, we were so close. I couldn't even believe she was allowing it. I pushed her hair to the side and kissed her shoulder once, then the back of her neck – then the crook of it.

She shuddered at that, when I allowed my lips to stay on her skin and breathed against it. Burying my face in her neck, I glanced up at the mirror. She had her eyes closed and her whole bottom lip sucked in between her teeth.

“God, you smell so good,” I murmured, my voice a low rasp. “What is that you're wearing?”

“Chanel,” Sadie answered vaguely. She held onto my wrists as my hands slid down her side to her waist.

I grinned, running the palm of my hand over her taut stomach. “Classy.”

She giggled and I planted kisses all along her jaw and back down her neck again. I kissed everywhere; her shoulders, collarbones, up her throat, along that fine jawline of hers. I targeted everywhere but her mouth, because I knew that would only agitate her. I knew that would get her lips quivering and her body trembling.

“Lauren?” she breathed.

“Yes?” I smirked inevitably against her cheek.

“Where is this coming from?”

Pulling at her bra strap, I simply said, “I don't know...”

Sadie turned around and faced me. I asked her if she liked it, if it was okay, and she grabbed my face and kissed me madly. I reflexively went for her hips and brought her flush against me. She urged me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I clumsily fell back on top of it. She followed me all of the way down, eagerly mounting on top of my waist.

_I'll take that as a yes._

 


	12. but i don't think heaven hears me

My skin was sticky with sweat. My forehead in particular. That was the first thing I noticed upon waking up. I felt someone underneath me and warm bare skin against mine. I drew back instantly in panic, because I couldn't gather up a recollection of what happened before I'd fallen asleep.

It was Sadie. I was laying on the bed sideways, fully clothed, – but my shirt was all disheveled like I'd been through a hurricane, one arm inside my shirt and the other in the sleeve like it's supposed to be – and my head in the crook of Sadie's neck. Speaking of Sadie, she was awake and staring at me with wide eyes and hesitant to utter a word.

She had herself covered in a blanket. From the way her shoulders were exposed I assumed she wasn't wearing a shirt, or a bra. It was hot – no, not her, or the fact that she was more than likely naked, but the atmosphere, the temperature in the room. I wanted to ask her if we had sex, although I felt that if we did I would've remembered, and I wouldn't have any clothes on, but who knows? My mind was a fucking blank slate at the moment.

Talk about amnesia. Those damn pills. I was so out of my right mind, which explains why I was in this current position. But then again, I thought to myself, if I didn't get stoned would I have initiated whatever the hell it was I initiated to get in bed with Sadie?

“I'm just going to assume that we didn't fuck, because my clothes are still on,” I murmured, groggily falling back onto a pillow. I rubbed my cheeks and groaned obnoxiously. I felt like I had just slept myself into oblivion or something crazy like that.

“Actually, your pants are off,” said Sadie matter-of-factly, causing me to look down at my legs. “And no, we didn't. You kind of passed out while we were kissing, scared the devil out of me.”

She was right. I was in nothing but but my socks, underwear and t-shirt, which kind of _scared the devil out of me._ We exchanged a quick look. I was gaping, and looked off elsewhere in disbelief.

“Are you alright there?”

I nodded distantly, all the while trying to grasp onto the memory. I recalled kissing her now, her tackling me to the mattress, removing her bra and saying something along the lines of “Fucking Christ, you are blessed”, and a litany of more unnecessary swears at the glorious sight of what that bra concealed, then more vigorous making out, and after that it all became a blur.

“I bet you've never made out with someone who has narcolepsy before, huh?” With my elbow propped up, I held my head in my hand and smiled easily.

Sadie looked shocked, not at all amused. “Are you actually narcoleptic?”

My gaze fell down to her parted lips, then back to those wide eyes filled with curiosity, and her eyebrows arched in confusion. Ah, I wanted to kiss her stupid face, or at least lay there a little longer and admire how faultless her facial features were but instead I just winked and climbed off of her bed.

I had no business being there, and to be honest, knowing that I didn't have sex with Sadie made me feel good about myself. Sure, falling asleep was the only thing that stopped me from going all the way, but at least there was _something_ to stop me. Self-control sure as hell wouldn't have. My conscience? Nope.

My judgment as a lot better now, a lot less clouded. My high wasn't as great as it was before, but once I stood up straight I got the greatest head rush in the history of head rushes. Alright, maybe it wasn't that great, but it was pretty darn soothing to the soul.

“You are so weird."

I snatched my pants up from the floor and hurriedly kicked myself into them. Sadie got out of bed and stretched backward, raising her arms above her head, and I watched with no shame. She ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it out.

A smirk found its way to the corner of her mouth once she caught me looking, yet she still rolled her eyes.

“Aren't you just so bummed out that we didn't fuck?” I said, pouting, and trudged out of the room, into the living area to gather my things.

“No, not really. I don't think someone who has narcolepsy would be so great in bed,” Sadie murmured sardonically.

She emerged from the room, tossing a shirt over her head. She didn't bother to put any pants on, which was fine by me. I threw my jacket over my arm and headed past her for the bathroom, only responding to her last remark with a sly grin and the wiggling of my brows.

Sadie pulled me by the arm with both hands, an adorable smile playing on her lips as she brought me to a halt and urged me back against the door frame outside the bathroom. My hands clapsed to her waist, and I tried to push her back but she wasn't having it. I put up a fight and she fought back playfully, somehow managing to restrain my wrists behind me.

I wasn't surprised. This was the girl who had rammed me into the wall and twisted my arm behind my back with just one hand less than a week ago.

“Look at what you did to my neck, and my chest...” she beamed, giggling and falling against me, weak from laughter. “Don't think it's fair you get to go home with nothin'. You sure as hell left your mark, why can't I leave mine?”

I grinned wolfishly. “You had your chance, hillbilly. Now let me go.”

“Did you really just call me that?”

“Hey,” I said, all of the sudden serious. Something had just hit me. “What time is, do you know?”

Sadie's grasp loosened as she looked around the room with a small sigh. I followed her gaze to the clock on the wall by a window. It was almost five in the afternoon. My heart skipped a beat.

_Freya._

“Fuck!” I pushed her away from me, rushed through the bathroom door and slammed it shut.

I scrambled for my phone. It was in my pocket. Missed call from Freya's school. Missed call from Dad. Also, a few text messages from Dad. When I opened them I felt a sense of relief and indignation at the same time, but the indignation that coursed through my veins was far too overpowering for me to notice the relief.

According to the messages, he'd picked her up after being contacted by the school. Then there were several texts about how irresponsible I am for not doing what I was supposed to do, and for making things harder on him, for screwing up like I'd done so many times before, how unreliable I am and careless for not replying, and how heartless and selfish I am for making my niece think no one was ever going to come and get her.

Fuck him. Fuck him. He is such a prick for making me feel this way. Or maybe I'm the prick, because in all actuality, it was rather selfish of me to do what I did. It _was_ careless and irresponsible of me to forget to pick up Freya from school. It all proves how unreliable and how much of a total fuck-up I truly am.

“Is everything alright in there?” Sadie inquired. I could tell she was leaning against the door with her nose in between the place where it shut because her voice sounded so clear, like she was right in the room with me.

I balled my fist involunrarily at the sound of her voice. I couldn't get mad at her. This was my own dilemma. I'd just accidentally brought her into it by being an idiot. I should have never made a move on her. This should have never happened.

_She's into me. I'm not into her, but now she'll think I am because she's naïve and immature and twenty and it may not seem like much an age difference but five years is a big deal to me. I just like the way she talks and walks, and her body. I just wanted a good time. I'm not into anyone but myself. I'm just an irresponsible self-absorbed bitch._

“Everything's great,” I replied, trying my best to sound joyous and not like I wanted to shoot myself. “I just forgot to do something because I was asleep, you know, but my dad did it for me, so it's all good.”

_No, it's not._

“You sure, Lauren?”

“Yep.” I began going through the medications inside the vanity mirror, not even bothering to keep down the noise. “So, I was looking through your mirror thing for some lotion because I don't like the way my hands get dry after I wash them, and I found some Percocet...”

“Some what?” she said, her response delayed and laced with confusion.

Suddenly a wave of agitation came over me. It was like a hard, stinging slap to the face, because I was shocked and filled with ire. And the sting lingered. My grip tightened around the pill bottle.

“The pills, Sadie. The pain pills in your mirror cabinet, or whatever it's called,” I huffed through gritted teeth, glowering at the door out the corner of my eye as if she were standing right there.

She was silent, and it was a kind of prolonged silence that suggested she was vexed and couldn't gather up the right words to say so I felt that maybe I should simmer down and readjust my tone before saying anything else. I did just that.

“They're prescribed to you, and I came across them and was wondering what kind of pain you deal with?” I became calm and collected, even adopted a tone of concern.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, as if she'd just solved a puzzle. “My wisdom teeth were taken out a few months ago and that's what I was prescribed for the pain.”

“So, you don't use them anymore, right?”

“Nope. I just kept them in case someone else needed them or something.”

“Well, I have this pain in my lower back from when I was in an accident when I was younger, and I just ran out of my pain medication...”

I pinched my eyes shut and balled my fists so tight that my nails were digging into my palms. I felt like such a snake lying to her like that. Sadie wasn't a bitch. That whole being cruel and evil to me thing was just her way of playing hard to get, and she'd finally given in. She didn't deserve to be decieved.

I needed this though. It's not like she was using them anymore. Although I'd taken some without her permission initially, I didn't want to do it another time. Somehow, asking her now made me feel better about practically stealing them earlier. I knew that she'd probably presume I was up to no good – but hell, she already knew that. She had said so right to my face in the first twenty minutes I was here.

“Sure,” Sadie answered simply. “Can I come in?”

She didn't give me the chance to reply. She just invited herself in. Well, it was her poolhouse anyway, and she was letting me have the pills so I didn't say anything. I just stood there like a deer in headlights, clutching the bottle tightly in my hand by my hip.

Sadie studied me, her eyebrows raised as she neared me in a hesitant manner. “Your eyes are red, like you're 'bout to cry.” She cupped one side of my face in her hand, caressing along my jaw and neck.

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath and imagined it was Camila standing in front of me touching me so tenderly. Because that's what I was used to. Camila was the only girl who had touched me so delicately in that innocent kind of way in a very long time – the kind of touch that wasn't particularly sexual, but a touch that let you know there was some kind of connection, a touch that let you know the other person just wanted to be near, to be close.

I couldn't tell if Sadie was attaining that same kind of innocence within her touch, though. I didn't want to think of Sadie at all. And I didn't.

I imagined Camila telling me that it was okay and that I'd made a mistake but I would be able to get through it because she'd be there to help me and her contagious laugh and smile would always be there to guide me toward the light when this kind of darkness engulfed me.

“I'm fine, really,” I muttered, turning my head away from her touch stubbornly. “My back just hurts, that's all.”

“Do you want some water? Your voice sounds kind of raspy.”

Shaking my head, I twisted the cap off the bottle of pills, poured a few in my hand and tossed them to the back of my throat. I tucked the bottle in the pocket of my jacket before putting it on over my shoulders. Sadie volunteered to help me even though I didn't need any help. She straightened my collar, and even zipped my pants up for me because apparently she noticed my fly was down as soon as she walked in but didn't say anything because it didn't seem like the time.

I had to crack a smile at that, but of course I tried to hide it by looking away. Then I wanted to kiss her again, but I had to remind myself that it was nothing but lust and the sudden onset of loneliness. I also had to remind myself that I wasn't alone.

“You're so cute,” Sadie gushed, pressing her forehead to my shoulder and gripping the collar of my jacket. “I hope you feel better.”

I was tempted to ask her if she still hated me, but then I realized that it would leave a better impression if I pretended not to care. Well, not a better impression, but perhaps a more nonchalant, indifferent one, and it would make her see how confident I was. I didn't want to hurt any feelings, but I was sure I wouldn't do anything she wouldn't already expect from me.

“Thanks for the medication,” I told her, and bit my lip while looking deep into her eyes.

“Thanks for the bruises.” She was referring to the hickeys I'd left on her neck, that she'd now have to hide from her parents unless she wanted to be interrogated and tantalized to no end.

Sure, she was of age, but I'm sure that if your twenty-year-old daughter had hickeys all over her and wasn't currently dating anyone you'd want to know what asshole did it too.

Sadie rolled her eyes as if to say _not._

“They're called hickeys, Sadie.”

“I don't like that word. It sounds gross.”

“You're gross,” I quipped, smirking cheekily.

“Well, obviously not since you were all over me attacking my neck like a vampire!”

My smirk deepened, but I didn't say anything. I breezed past Sadie out of the bathroom and slung my backpack over my shoulder. She opened the front door for me and motioned for me to get out.

“Tell Castile it was me who gave 'em all to you, then she'll ban me from ever stepping foot in this house and I won't have to show for that engagement party Saturday. Tell her I'm a flaming homosexual who fell asleep on top of her topless daughter mid make-out action!” I raved.

Sadie ended up shoving me out the door and I couldn't help but laugh my ass off as I ambled on by the pool back for the house.

“Tell her yourself. I'm sure she's home by now!” Sadie shouted from the poolhouse.

Instead of going through the house to leave, I took a detour and cut through a few hedges in their backyard to get to my car. Both her parents' cars were out front, which meant if I would have went through the house I would have ran into Castile who would have then more than likely talked my ear off about this upcoming engagement party and who knows what else.

Ugh. Thank God I dodged that.

On the car ride over to my dad's, I decided that silence was more soothing than the sound of music, which was a rarity, but my soul was calm. I was in a great place, but I knew that as soon as I stepped foot in my old house I'd be bombarded with questions. That is, if Dad even had the energy in him to put up an argument.

From the words he used in the text messages, I assumed he was livid, which meant things wouldn't be all butterflies and sunshine between him and I when we came face to face. Definitely not something I was looking forward to.

In my honest opinion, I thought that maybe he should cut me some slack if I were to show up, because that's the key thing right there: I didn't have to show up and get that little monster, but Freya was starting to grow on me and I cared for her well being and I cared for my dad, and knowing that since he was going through a depression right now, the burden of her on his shoulders would be way too much.

But, of course, as I presumed he would, he started chewing my head off right when I came through the door. Actually, he didn't even let me in. He swung the door open right as I lifted my hand to knock and demanded, “Where have you been? Why haven't you answered any of my calls or texts messages?”

I winced, holding up a hand in a way that said _chill out_. It took me a few seconds to process all that he had said because he said it so fast. Reeling, I shuffled in place, pinched my eyes shut and then opened them wide again. I was tempted to say something snarky like, “ Last time I checked I could've sworn I wasn't sixteen” or, better yet, “Wow, since when are you my ex-girlfriend”, but decided against it. I was already in enough hot water here.

“I was at a client's house, doing important business, Dad. I was busy,” I said, and smiled like all was right in the world.

_Yeah, because sleeping off a high in a client's bed after you've fallen asleep on top of them is totally important business. Not to mention very ethical._

“Then where's your camera?” he pressed.

“Um...out in my car?”

“I want to see it.”

“If you're trying to bust me by seeing if I brought my camera in order to tell if I was actually doing work or not, then that's not a very good way to do so, because I bring my camera everywhere with me. Even if I was going to the club, which I never do by the way, I'd bring it with me, or the bar, or some girl's house, or wherever it is you think I was.”

Dad studied me in suspicion, that all too familiar stern, superior look in his eyes. I wanted to hold his gaze to prove my security, but couldn't. I felt as if he was figuring me out slowly – as if he was coming to find out just how high I was in this moment. I felt that he was realizing despite having a house to live in and a decent job, his daughter was such a loser. A lost loser with hard habits to break and a head harder than concrete.

I blinked away, faking like something was in my eye and set my gaze on the floor.

“I don't think you were at any of those places, Lauren,” Dad muttered, his voice soft, but stern. “I think you were at home, either sleeping or drinking, because it looks like you've been drinking. Now I'm hoping you can prove me wrong, but if not then what do you expect me to believe?”

My eyebrows lowered, and I shot him a dumbfounded look. “Well, Dad, I don't know,” I gasped lightly, feigning shock. “I guess if you don't...believe me, then I don't give a shit. But, if you do then...” I began clapping, a scowl setting on my face and my bleary eyes growing cold. “That's just great for you.”

He looked like he didn't know what to say, like he himself was baffled – like I was a rotten _kid who was supposed to be an adult_ and since Mom died, he didn't know what to do with me. He was realizing that I'd changed for the worst as of late, probably even coming to notice that he and I hadn't had a proper conversation in quite a while, but that was okay as long as he had his favorite daughter Taylor. As long as she was still little Miss Fucking Sunshine.

Hell, I'll even bet he was glad that I was all grown up in the numeral sense and didn't have to deal with me everyday. 

But what did I care?

Well, obviously I cared a lot because my cheeks were fiery hot and I was filled with rage. I'm sure I mentioned that my emotions were outrageously intensified when I was under the influence, so all of this anger should be of no surprise. I couldn't put up the indifferent act for too long.

“I was at a client's house!” I seethed, on the verge of tears.

My bottom lip quivered as I watched his reaction, expecting a shift in the look on his face, but there was none, which meant he still wasn't hearing me.

“It was Scott's sister's house. Yeah, your stupid friend Scott, the one you went to college with and work with or whatever the hell – his sister Patricia Castile. I was doing work for her daughter, Sadie, and I was supposed to be taking pictures for Patricia last Saturday but something came up, and I will be this Saturday also. I'm sorry I forgot to pick Freya up, okay? So could you stop looking at me like I'm such a fucking failure when you're the one who almost let her get mowed down by a car last week because you weren't watching her. At least I watch her...” I clenched my fists into tight balls, my whole body shaking with emotion. I slammed my fist into my head and took a deep breath. “I keep an eye on her, I've been helping her with homework, and I've been getting her to school in the morning and up until today I have been picking her up on time, which is something you just couldn't do for some reason by the way, and wow, I make one mistake and suddenly I am complete worthless, insufferable trash in your eyes – wait, no, I've always been utter trash to you. I'm sorry!”

At this point, I sounded manic and all Dad could do was keep quiet and listen and stare cautiously. He wouldn't dare interrupt me at a time like this, at a time when I had no filter and not even I could be sure what my limitations were.

“I'm sorry I wasn't at the hospital while Chris was dying. Yes, I was at home on the couch and I had overdosed on Vicodin and had been drinking and slept for like twenty-something hours straight, and now that I think about it, I remember waking up some time during those hours during the middle of the night and thought I was dying. That was then, this is now – I'm still doing reckless things like that, but I'm trying to learn from my mistakes and I bet you wish it was Taylor who could keep Freya until you snap out of your little mental sickness, don't you? Because Taylor is precious and Taylor kisses your ass at this perfect angle, not too much, but just enough, just right. Fuck Taylor. Fuck her. I may be a mess, but I can take care of her. I've been taking care of Freya more than I've been taking care of myself this week, and I promise you I wouldn't ever let her get hurt on my watch.”

Dad was nonplussed. He bowed his head eventually and shook it from side to side. He looked defeated. I chewed the inside of my lip, the scowl on my face immovable. After a bout of prolonged silence, I asked him where Freya was. Not answering me, Dad stepped out of the doorway and I stomped inside.

“I know you get angry. I know you let it all build up until it overflows and the result is what just happened, but remember that I'm your father and not some stranger who means nothing to you,” Dad said, his voice getting louder and louder as I walked off deeper into the house and way from him.

I found Freya in the living area casually sitting on the couch. She was way too engrossed in an episode of Spongebob, her eyes not leaving the screen even when I sat down next to her.

“Hey, kiddo,” I called and forced a smile.

My feelings of distress didn't dissipate too easily, but when I saw the look on Freya's little face I couldn't fight the feeling of joy that overcame me.

Her eyes were aglow and a big grin spread across her face. She dove on top of me and wrapped her arms tight around my torso.

“Where were you?” she asked, sounding overwhelmed.

“I was out doing some work. You ready to go?”

“No, not yet,” she answered simply. “I'm watching Spongebob.”

“Well, when this episode's over, we've gotta go and maybe on the way home we could get some ice cream. How does that sound?”

Freya's grin came back tenfold. I patiently waited for the episode to finish. I even found myself getting into it too, despite the fact that I'd seen the particular episode over a thousand times already. When it ended, Freya hopped up and went on out to the car on her own after saying goodbye to Dad.

As I passed him on the way out of the door, he watched me expectantly. I stopped halfway out, turned around to face him and said, “I'm sorry.”

I just couldn't leave him without apologizing for my rude, psychotic outburst like a cold-hearted bitch. He was already in pain – I could tell from the dull look on his face that never changed unless it was for the worse, unless it was scrunching up into a grimace or a frown. He'd lost a lot of weight over the past several months, obviously from not eating. He looked beaten down, emotionally drained, sickened with the world. Angry.

I gathered him into a hug, squeezing him hard. Dad and I had always had our differences, but I loved him. He was my dad after all.

He smiled a wan, barely-there smile and nodded once. “You know I love you, Lolo. No matter what. Don't ever question that. Take care of yourself and Freya, and please stay out of trouble."

“Yeah. Love you too, Dad. I'll see you soon.”

“LET'S GO GET SOME ICE CREAM, AUNT LAUREN!”

“You better get out there before she throws a tantrum. She threw one when she found out it wasn't you that was picking her up. She was already crying because she thought no one was going to come and get her, then she cried even more,” Dad informed, chuckling halfheartedly with the shake of his head.

“Well, the ice cream will make up for it, I'm sure.” I smiled out at Freya who was watching us out the window from inside the car. “It won't happen again.”

“Tell her that. She needs to hear it the most.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, looking down at my feet, not sure what else to say. It would have been the perfect moment to actually leave, but I felt as if I was forgetting to address something.

“You been okay lately, Dad?” I asked him, looking over his face speculatively.

He did that faint smile again, the one you had to squint just to see at the very corner of his mouth. As he nodded, the smile grew slightly wider. Slightly. I hadn't seen his normal broad grin since before Mom had gotten really sick.

“I'm doing perfectly fine," he said.

Maybe he was lying, maybe he wasn't. But if he was, then I knew he was at least trying to be _perfectly fine_. Dad told me to go get Freya her ice cream before her head exploded, and that was when I hugged him again, then left the doorstep and headed for the car.

“Dairy Queen sounds good right about now, doesn't it?” I said to Freya, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

She nodded eagerly, her face aglow with excitement.


	13. possibilities and sacred pinky promises

When we stepped through the door of my apartment, it was so quiet in there you could hear a pen drop. Freya and I were finishing up our ice cream with not a care in the world, I was still feeling indefinitely stoned and this is what we had to come home to: A depressing ass vibe that slapped you in the face as soon as you walked in, and Dinah staring at the black television screen on the couch next to a clueless looking Camila right in the middle of my living room.

Freya ran on in, too oblivious and innocent to realize that something was terribly wrong with my best friend. Dinah doesn't stare at blank television screens. Dinah is never silent, or morose, or tranquil. Those words just don't describe Dinah.

“Okay, I don't mean to be offensive – if I am, sorry – but what the fuck is going on here?” I blurted, puzzled. I casually stood there for about two minutes and finished up my entire ice cream cone before I didn't anything else.

I approached Dinah slowly and kneeled down in front of her on the floor. She looked like she'd been crying. I glanced to Camila, who shrugged and was coming off just as clueless as me. She had her hand in Dinah's hair, like she'd been smoothing over it to comfort her, and combing her fingers through it to soothe her.

Something pooled in the pit of my stomach very subtly. Dinah was hurting and I was getting butthurt over the fact that Camila came to comfort my friend before I could. Or maybe I was feeling jealous over the fact that Camila was showing Dinah attention.

It doesn't matter. Whatever it was that ignited that feeling in me, I was still a bitter bitch for feeling it.

“I wish you two would stop looking at me like that. I'm fine. Have you never seen someone stare in space before in silence? Maybe I just want to some silence,” Dinah muttered, finally locking eyes with me.

“But that's not like you, beautiful.” I searched her eyes, my hands rubbing her knees comfortingly. “What's up? What's wrong with your pretty self?”

She tried to hinder a smile, but couldn't, and said, “That's not going to work on me, Lauren. Nice one though.”

Dinah was referring to the way she tried to comfort me when I was feeling down. She would start showering me with compliments because she knew that was normally all it took to pick me back up at times.

I chuckled inwardly and gave an impish smile. “Works on me. It should work on you too. Hell, when you're sad you tend to forget things. Like me, I forget how incredibly hot I am when I'm upset, so all I need is someone to remind me and then I'm like, 'oh, yeah, I'm fucking sexy. What do I need to be sad for?' It's a good pick me up.”

Camila began snickering at her side. She and I exchanged a smile, and she was staring at me like I was unbelievable, covering her mouth just in case now wasn't the time to laugh. The air seemed fragile to her, but she clearly didn't know the strength of me and Dinah's friendship, or our ridiculous yet resilient sense of humor. I could make Dinah laugh no matter what and vice versa.

Dinah glanced at Camila, a smile spreading across her features. “Her ego is almost bigger than her head, isn't it?”

“Yeah, which is bad, because she has a big head,” said Camila, before a bunch of giggles came out of her mouth.

I wanted to punch her like she was always punching me, but decided against it. The fact that Dinah was hurting underneath that smile was much more of my concern. “You two can talk shit about me later. Right now I want to know what's wrong Dinah.”

“Can we talk about it later? Now that you're here it's easier not to think about it.”

A scowl came over my expression of concern. “Is it Siope?” I pried, my voice hardening. “What did he do?”

And just like that, the weight of the depressing atmosphere came back and crushed us all, putting pressure on our chests. Dinah's eyes narrowed, and for a few moments she tried to play it off but I saw the pain ease on back. It wasn't just in her eyes anymore. It had taken over her whole face. So much pain.

“Yeah. We broke up. We're over.” She sighed dejectedly. “And don't ask me about the details because I'd rather not discuss that right now. Just save it for some other time, or never.”

We stayed quiet for a long time. A very long time. Camila would look at me every so often and just stare with her eyebrows slightly raised, as if mentally asking me _what do we do now? What do we say? Should I say something?_

I would stiffly shake my head. Sometimes it's good to indulge in silence when you're in a damaged state. Eventually Dinah scooted over on the couch and made room for me. I held her, just like she had held me all of those times when I was in a sad place.

Camila and I dismissed ourselves to go get some blankets for Dinah from her room. Freya had been sleeping in bed with me this week since she didn't like being in the living room all alone, so I figured Dinah could crash on the couch tonight. That'd be much more comfortable than the floor.

Camila closed the door behind her once we entered her bedroom. She was grimacing and she looked unsure as she rested back against the door. I could relate. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, frowning at the floor awkwardly, standing several feet away from her.

“Sometimes, silence is good,” I said sternly, sounding like I was trying to remind myself. “It can also be depressing too. So we need to try and cheer her up. You should bring out your stereo and put it in the living room and I'll pull out a couple of movies so we can watch something other than _Frozen_ for a change and maybe we can all sleep in the living room?”

She nodded, pushed herself off the door and made her way toward her closet. I had a few sleeping bags and blankets that couldn't fit in the hall closet stored in hers. She didn't mind though, of course. I helped gather up everything.

“She was on the couch crying when I came in. She wouldn't tell me anything when I asked what was wrong, so I just hugged her and tried to comfort her. That's why I was...kind of, like, all on her,” Camila told me, shifting around in place in discomfort.

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her funny. “Why are you telling me this?”

She was biting her lip, blinking down at the floor excessively. “Um, I was just saying, because you looked kind of weird when you sat down and saw me...”

I wanted to be confused, but I couldn't. But then again, I still kind of was, if that makes any sense. Was she saying this to me like she felt the need to explain her actions to me? Did she see that faint twinkle of jealousy in my eyes? If she did, she should have been telling me that I was in idiot for feeling that way; that I was cruel for feeling that way.

“Camila, Dinah's in pain. Why would I be mad because you were comforting her? She's your friend, isn't she? And you're not my property or anything. You can do whatever you want...” I trailed off.

“No, I didn't mean it in that weird way. I mean, like, I didn't want you thinking I was trying to take your place as a friend, or trying to show you up.”

Camila felt the need to explain herself to me. That was a quick cover up. She _did_ mean it in that weird way. She got the feeling that I would be jealous of the way she was all over my best friend, not for simply comforting her and taking my place. She knew that I liked her, and this need to explain herself proved that she just may like me too. It was all unraveling now.

I didn't know what else to say, so I didn't say anything at all. I studied her for a long time and then simply went back to pulling out blankets from the closet. I hated that she could read me and my emotions so well just by looking at my face. I somewhat hated that the secret was out now, because how am I supposed to act now that I knew that she possibly knew. It just made me feel embarrassed.

Camila left the room to go put the blankets in the living room, and I followed her out with her stereo in my arms. Dinah was now laying on the couch with her face pressed into the cushions. I just patted her back. We then went into my room to pick out some movies from my movie collection, where Freya was working on her homework at my desk.

What a good kid.

“You want to go do that at the kitchen table instead of in here?” I asked her.

Freya looked from Camila to me. “Yeah. I did my writing homework. I need you to help me with the math. It's hard.”

“It's not hard. You just don't know what the hell you're doing.”

Camila jabbed me in the arm with her elbow.

“Which isn't a bad thing,” I added, glaring over at Camila. “Go in the kitchen. I'll be in there to help you with it in a minute. Also, go give Dinah a big ole hug. She's on the couch and she's not feeling so well, so she needs it.”

Freya scurried out of the room with haste, her homework worksheets and pencil in hand.

“Don't run with that pencil!” I snatched the remote up from the desk and turned the TV off. “And what did I tell you about watching TV while doing your homework? You'll be able to multitask once your grades start coming up, missy!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Freya retorted snidely.

Meanwhile, Camila was standing in the middle of the room giving me a weird look. “Jeez, she's just in kindergarten, Laur.”

“Can't believe they broke up,” I said all of the sudden, changing the subject. “You know, they've been together since like sophomore year in college. I thought they would get married. Siope could be an ass at times though, so I wonder what he did.”

“How do you know he did something?”

I thought for a moment. “Guess you're right. That better be the case. I think it'd be easier to deal with if no one did anything wrong and you just broke up because you realized you two weren't right for each other.”

“I think it'd be easier if you didn't break up at all.” Camila looked lost in thought all of the sudden. “You know what's scary is that when you're dating someone, you're either going to marry them or break up. There's no other outcome.”

That was obvious, but never had I actually took the time to think about that. As I fell to my knees and pulled out the box from under my bed with all of my movies in it, I reflected on this. Come to think of it, it was one of the reasons why I didn't want to admit my feelings to Camila. Instead of agreeing and going along with the serious flow of the conversation, I decided to lighten up.

“Not true,” I said defiantly, smirking. “There are plenty of other outcomes. You could become friends with benefits, or friends, or divorce each other, or –“

“Lauren, all of those come after the whole breaking up part.”

“But if you get married and break up, then it isn't an either or situation. You get married _and_ divorced, which is breaking up. So you do both.”

Camila's face scrunched up, which made me laugh. “I understand,” she said. “But why is that relevant? And why do you always have to be right in a debatable conversation?”

I shrugged, stood to my feet and stretched with a loud groan. “Don't know. I don't _have_ to always be right. I just _am_.”

I put the box of movies on the bed and Camila came and sat next to it, scrambling through the DVDs. We decided we would pick out ones that Dinah would like and I got out a couple of her favorites.

“Her and I watched this movie a lot throughout high school,” said Camila, holding up _Clueless._ “It's one of my favorites. Hers too, I believe, or maybe she just watched it over and over to put up with me.”

“Yeah, she likes it,” I said through forced laughter. “So do I.”

“Why didn't you tell me you had this movie collection? You have a lot of good ones in here. What the hell are we watching Netflix or stuff on TV all of the time for?”

Studying the DVD case of _The Breakfast Club,_ I said, “I don't know. Some of this junk is on Netflix.”

“You like old movies?”

“I do...”

“You wouldn't happen to have _Rebel Without a Cause,_ would you?” Camila asked.

I smirked and rolled my eyes. “James Dean fan?”

She almost blushed. “Who wouldn't be?”

“Well, if he were still alive and in his twenties I'd be willing to go straight for him, that's all I'll say. And yes, it's in here somewhere. We could watch it, but seeing you swoon over him just might make me barf.”

Camila was smiling in a tentative manner, gazing at me fondly. Eventually I got bashful and took a DVD case to hide my face. I lowered it just a little below my eyes to see if she was still watching me and sure enough she was, so I quickly hid again.

“Do you ever get tired of innuendos and beating around the bush? Because I do. I am. I'm tired of beating around the bush,” she said lowly after snatching the DVD away from my face.

I didn't understand what she meant and apparently my face registered confusion because she sighed all frustrated and impatient and it was insanely cute and she didn't even know it.

“Do you...” Camila paused, mid sentence. She had a straight face on, but when she puffed out her cheeks and huffed out a sigh she ended up cheesin' again.

My chest grew tight with anticipation. I didn't know what she was about to say, but I was bracing myself. I moistened my lips, feigning okay, looking at her expectantly.

“Do you have feelings for me is what I'm trying to ask?”

My jaw was threatening to drop, but I kept my mouth clamped shut. I tried not to adopt any expression as she looked at me for an answer, but failed. I felt my eyes widening and soon they idled elsewhere around the room in no direction. My stomach felt funny and I was warmer than I was before.

“Yeah,” I said casually. It was the drugs talking, but it was the truth. What I mean is that had I not been high in this very moment, I would have probably laughed it off and been like, _Ha ha, I think it's time we go back out to see how Dinah's doing now._

I was just in shock though. I didn't feel any kind of embarrassment from the confession. I just couldn't believe she came out and asked that, and I couldn't believe how easy it was for me to say so. And though I was there in the room with her, I felt like I wasn't. I felt like I was watching the whole situation go down, which was weird, but I didn't quite care to consider it.

Camila nodded slowly, a familiar twinkle in her eye. “I do too. I mean, I don't have feelings for myself. I have feelings for you,” she informed, and then smiled sweetly.

It was like she was so oblivious to how much of a dork she was, and it was the cutest fucking thing in this world. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her madly, but it wouldn't feel right with my friend hurting out there on the couch. In a way, I felt Dinah's pain and it was bumming me out and killing what should have been the most coolest vibe ever, but I couldn't blame that on her. I didn't really care.

It would all pass soon. And my best friend would be happy again. And then maybe everything and everyone could be happy and whatnot, even me. That was what I counted on; what was to come in the future.

I reached over to touch Camila's hand that was resting on the bed at her side. My fingers grazed over her knuckles gently. She glanced down at my hand, then back up into my eyes through her long lashes. Just then Dinah walked in. Camila followed my gaze and looked behind her at the door. As I was pulling away I could see her face reddening.

Dinah seemed to recoil a bit once she had came in, and she was wearing that surprised _oh shit, what did I do, what's going on_ look on her face.

“Um, I was just wondering where you guys went off to,” she said, coming off as nonchalant.

I looked at Camila briefly and smiled slightly. She hopped off the bed and awkwardly made her way out of the room past Dinah. With a couple of movies in one hand, I approached Dinah at the door, hooked my arm around her neck and said, “We've decided that you're staying here and that we're going to have a movie night. How 'bout it?”

“Good, because I don't have anywhere else to go at the moment. Movie night sounds fun.” We walked on out of my room, stuck together like glue.

“I'm going to cheer you up, asshole. I would call up a few male strippers but we can't be doing all of that with Freya here and all, you know.”

Dinah grinned broadly. “I've been waiting on you all day to get your ass home and cheer me up, because I just knew there was no way I could spend one minute with you and not laugh.”

“Would have been home sooner, but was out doing business. We should order some pizza or something.”

“You're the best, Lo.”

Lifting my arms in the air, spinning in a circle and doing a little dance, I said, “Tell me about it.”

The air felt so casual that I had to constantly ask myself whether or not Camila had actually just told me she had feelings for me or if I'd just imagined it. From the way she kept smiling at me, I assumed it really did just happen. What did it mean for me though?

Did it mean a possible her and I? A possible Camila and Lauren? A possible Lauren and Camila?

_Oh, the countless possibilities._

* * *

“Have any of you ever walked around in your pajama pants without any underwear on underneath? Because it feels damn great,” I mused as I walked out of my room and into the main room to join everyone else.

My kitchen, living room and dining room was all one huge area, so I suppose it is the main room. I sashayed over to the sink and put my mouth under the running faucet to get the nasty taste of pill residue off my tongue. I'd just gotten out of the shower and downed my last couple of pills for the night, and the pizza guy had already swung by, and I was the last to get settled in for the night, and Freya was in her pajamas, had taken her bath and finished her homework so that meant I was now worry-free.

“Sometimes I forget to put underwear on! And sometimes I know I don't have any on but don't care,” said Freya, pizza sauce all around her mouth. She was sitting on a sleeping bag on the floor with her legs spread apart in a V and a box of pizza in between them.

“Me too!” Before going over into the living area, I grabbed a napkin for Freya. I flicked it in her face, sat down next to her and then picked up a slice from the box and started chowing down.

“There's no way anyone could possibly say they are not related,” Camila remarked in undertone.

Dinah nodded in agreement, her head tilted to the side slightly as she studied us.

“So,” I said. “What movie do you guys want to watch first? Or would you like to just sit here and stare at the wall and listen to The 1975 for the rest of the night as you're doing right now?”

Freya perked up. “Let's watch Frozen!” she suggested, all happy-happy.

Camila and Dinah looked to me in desperation, silently begging for me to shut any possibility of us watching Frozen tonight down. Meanwhile Freya was glancing to each of us excitedly, hoping we'd give in and say yes.

“No, Freya. We don't want to watch that. We've seen it a thousand times. Don't you ever get tired of watching the same old thing just about everyday?

All of the sudden she pulled this mean look, her eyebrows knitting together and her lips all pouty. “My mommy and daddy love Frozen. Daddy _really_ loves it. He watched it with me every night. They left me, so who will watch it with me now? No one!”

I actually didn't find the idea of Chris loving a Disney princess movie hard to believe at all.

Camila and I exchanged looks. Camila looked like she was about to cry and Dinah was totally out of touch with reality it seemed. She was laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling mouthing the words to _Girls._

“I'm going to go watch the movie with her in my room. She'll fall asleep half way through it, so you know,” I whispered to Camila, shrugging. “Tell Dinah once she comes out of her daze or whatever the hell it is that she's doing.”

She nodded. I picked up the box of pizza and told Freya to follow me into my room. The DVD player was in the living room now, and Dinah was suddenly really into The 1975, so we couldn't watch it in there. Good thing the movie was already in my laptop.

So that's what I did for the next hour. And just when I thought Freya was asleep and got up to leave, her grip around me tightened like she never wanted to let go. She did this every night.

“I thought you weren't coming to get me today. I thought no one was coming to get me from school...” Freya broke out into tears. “I thought you were gonna leave me like my mommy and daddy did.”

I sat up and paused the movie. I sat hunched over for a long time, and my heart just began to hurt. Everything went silent. I was tired and I could barely keep my eyes open, and even as I sat up straight, Freya still clung to me.

“They aren't even coming back, are they?”

Staring down at my comforter, I shook my head from side to side.

Freya lowered her head to look at my face. “What, Aunt Lauren? Are they?”

I jerked my head to face her – I felt as if I had to make myself – and looked her right in the eye. My mouth didn't want to open, but it had to because I knew head gestures wouldn't be enough to confirm this, and before I said anything I shook my head yet again.

“No,” I said softly, wincing.

Her watering eyes widened as if it was finally dawning on her. “They left me,” she whispered, confusion and horror written all over her face.

“It wasn't their choice, Freya. They wouldn't leave you if it were their choice. They loved you. You see, the thing is, Freya...they died. People die everyday. It's apart of life and it isn't anyone's fault...”

“Is that what happened to Grandma too?”

“Yes. That's what happened to my mom, your grandma. She's gone, but if you ask me, I think her and your dad and your mom are all together in some place, living a much better life than we are.”

“In Heaven?” Freya asked.

I smiled lightly and grabbed her hand. “Yeah. Sure. I'm sure that's where they are.”

“But, I miss them. Why do people have to die?”

“I can't answer that,” I said with a sigh. “I don't know. I wish it didn't have to happen too, but it does. It's just the way of the world, and it's unfair, but a lot of things in this world are unfair. You'll learn, and I promise to be there every step of the way. I'm not going to leave you.”

Freya looked around the room vacantly, searching for an answer in that mind of hers. She didn't understand. Hell, I didn't even understand. And I wished she didn't have to try and understand death at a such a young age.

Life is such a mess.

I kissed her forehead and brought her into a hug. “I won't ever leave you, okay?”

She drew back and held up her pinky. I smiled heartily and hooked my pinky around hers to seal the promise. It was probably the most important promise I would ever make in my life, and I was determined to keep it.

“I love you, Aunt Lauren,” she said through a smile, her tears drying up.

For some reason, I was taken aback. My heart grew warm and fuzzy. A kid loved me. Kids don't lie about things like that, they don't have the heart to do stuff like that yet, so this meant that Freya was so fond of my company and so fond of my care, that she felt the need to say _I love you,_ just as she would to her parents.

“I... I love you too.”

She crawled back under her favorite blanket and then pulled on my arm to bring me closer. She said she didn't want to watch the movie anymore because she was tired, and that she wanted me to just lay with her until she fell asleep.

So that's exactly what I did until she fell into a deep slumber.

 


	14. but pretty isn't everything, right?

“You should totally call in sick today,” I said to Camila around a mouthful of chomped up Twizzlers. Nudging my nose in her hair, I placed my hands on the counter she was standing in front of, my arms parallel to her side.

Camila sat down the bagel she was spreading cream cheese on. “Well, why do you think that would be a good idea?” she said, and slowly turned her head to look at me.

She looked fairly surprised, but then grimaced at the sight of me chewing with my mouth open. “Ew. Lauren, what are you eating?”

We were face to face, and it made my breath hitch, but I just smiled and took a small step back as she turned around to face me.

“What are _you_ eating, huh?” I peeked over her shoulder at the pack of bagels, burying my face in her straightened hair and messing it up once again. I purposely acted obnoxious, for whatever reason.

It didn't matter, I knew she'd find it adorable.

Maybe it was because I was in good spirits this morning. I suppose that was it. Or it may be the fact that last night on the couch as we watched movies was the first time Camila had ever laid her head on me while being awake and fully aware. It wasn't like how it was before, where we sat on the couch somewhat close together or against each other and she fell asleep and somehow wound up in that position.

I'd sat in the corner of the couch and she laid her back against me, and we held hands and we played with each others fingers and I ran mine through her hair and she would look up at me for the longest and I'd pretend to be too into the movie to notice, then she'd reach up and stroke my face to get my attention.

Until last night touching had always been in that not-too-creepy friendly way, except for that night in her room when she caressed my face and looked like she was about to do something crazy – crazy good, by the way – and shit got extremely awkward because neither of us were _that_ aware of our feelings toward one another.

But now, it was in the air. It was all out there in the open. All of the suppression and such.

“Make me one too. I like bagels,” I said delightedly, coming in closer again once she turned back to her bagel business. I rested my chin on her shoulder and looked at her profile fondly, my hands gripping the edge of the countertop as I leaned into her. “And call in sick, please... The books can wait. Today Dinah and I are going to Siope's to get her things and I'd like for you to come. We need as much help as we can get.”

Camila tensed up all of the sudden and turned her head to look at me. “You're a little close, huh?” She pressed her lips together to keep herself from smiling, and ended up giggling awkwardly.

Maybe her hips were touching me just a bit. I knew what I was doing, but feigned confusion and glanced down at the lack of space between her butt and my waist and then craned my neck to see her face again and fought a smirk.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't notice.” I only shimmied closer. “Is that better?”

She couldn't help herself at this point; she was full on grinning, face beet red. I snickered, thinking of all those times she'd picked on me for blushing too easily.

“And you only moved closer.” Camila spun around and looked at me like I knew better.

I drew back, smiling an easy yet impish smile. “I thought that's what you wanted. I apologize, Camz.”

“You are so inappropriate.” She grabbed the tub of cream cheese from the counter, dipped her finger in and slapped some right on my nose.

Sighing, I dropped my arms to my side and shook my head, slightly exasperated now. “Why would you do that?”

Camila pouted and furrowed her brows, mimicking me. “Aw. Look who's all angry. What are you gonna do about it?” she teased and bit her bottom lip.

“I'm gonna...” Feeling defeated, I sighed and set my gaze on the floor as she stared at me expectantly with a smug look on her face. “I can't threaten you. You're too cute to threaten, and I'm no where near mean as you.”

“I'm not mean,” Camila protested and leaned closer. I could've sworn she was about to kiss me so I automatically closed my eyes, but I felt her mouth on my nose and realized _oh, she's just using her mouth to clean the cream cheese off my nose._

Totally should have expected that from Camila. When she was finished, I stared at her with upraised eyebrows and held back a reaction. I didn't know how to react. I stood there stiff, my face heating up quickly.

She smiled casually and said, “Was it weird that I just ate cream cheese off your face?”

“No. Not at all, which is why I love this friendship.”

Camila nodded slowly and studied me a moment. I couldn't discern what she was feeling or thinking at the moment, which kind of worried me. Did the use of the word _friendship_ unsettle her? I just wasn't sure what else to call it. So far all we'd admitted to was having feelings for each other. Nothing more had been discussed about the matter.

Well, not directly, or in precise terms.

To bring back the spark in the conversation, I got some cream cheese and smeared it all over my mouth.

“You could totally do it again!” I jested, throwing my arms out at my side.

Smirking, she pushed past me and put her bagels back in the fridge, and then advanced across the room. “Nah. You can deal with that yourself,” Camila said in a sassy manner.

Well, I'd just done that for nothing. I was left feeling bummed and rejected once she disappeared around the corner and down the hall. She came back out several moments later with all her things for work and her half eaten bagel in one hand.

“So I take it you're not going with Dinah and I today?”

Camila got one look at me and sighed, which reminded me of how I still had cold cream cheese smeared over my mouth.

“I can't,” she said dejectedly. “I really have to go in to work today, Laur. I'll help you guys clean out the spare room today once I get home.”

“Well, you know what, I won't be here. I have a wedding tonight, so you and her can get started on it without me. I'm sorry for bugging you about it, but it just seems like you never get to hang out with Dinah and I.”

“We watched movies until like three in the morning last night.”

“You and I did. Dinah fell asleep at midnight.”

“Doesn't matter. She was still here. And since she'll be living here for the time being I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to spend with you guys. We'll all do something tomorrow, I'm sure. We could go shopping or something.”

“I've got an engagement party tomorrow.”

“In the evening, right?”

“Yeah, but still.”

“Whatever,” Camila said halfheartedly on her way out the door, exhausted with my inability to be satisfied. “We'll figure something out later.” She turned around suddenly, a ghost of a smile appearing. “Come by the library today and see me while you're out.”

I was in the process of licking some of the cream cheese off my mouth, but was all ears once she said that. Forging toward her, I wiped my face with the back of my head and then asked, “Why?”

She simply rolled her eyes, still smiling a little. “Well, if you don't want to you don't have to.”

“I do want to,” I insisted, stumbling over one of Freya's shoes trying to get to her, but didn't even look down to acknowledge it, or the fact that I'd almost took a fall, because Camila had me in her gravitational pull once again. “I uh, I can. Definitely. I just want to know why.”

Camila hesitated for a moment. She almost looked timid.

“'Cause I want to see you... Since I won't see you tonight when I get home, because of that wedding and all.”

“Oh. Alright.” I smiled like a gawky teenager, a total dork.

 _She doesn't want me to swing by the library for an actual reason, like to give her something. She just wants me to show just so she can see me, because the wait to see me again late tonight would be far too long._ Now that was something to smile about until your cheeks went sore. That was something to get the butterflies all rowdy in your tummy.

“Well, I've got to leave now so I can get my Starbucks and not be late,” she said, breaking the silence, and our gaze.

“Okay. I'll see you later.”

“And Lauren?” There was a sweet tone to her voice, like everything she said was honeyed and disarming.

“Yes?”

“Wipe that shit off your face. You look like an idiot.”

With that, she shut the door and left for work. Even that sounded sweet, and I couldn't get the smile off my face. Dinah came out of my room, fresh out of the shower.

“Hey, buddy. How you doing?”

She looked like she didn't know how to answer that. “Great. What the hell is that on your face?”

“Cream cheese,” I said nonchalantly. “Camila has a lot to do with it.”

Dinah nodded. “Ah.”

“You want to go grab some breakfast before we go over to Siope's?”

She shrugged and sat down at the dining table with some nail polish. “You and Camila finally have something going on now? Took my advice?”

I wiped my face with a paper towel. “We don't have anything going on, but she told me that she's got a thing for me pretty much.”

“I could tell. You guys were all over each other last night on that couch.” She chuckled briefly.

Dinah's voice was so hollow when she spoke. It was almost monotonous, and it depressed me even though we were talking about a subject that made me feel alive. God, she seemed so down in the dumps, but was so bitter and cryptic about what actually happened between her and Siope, and she still hadn't exactly divulged what happened. It was killing me.

Though I wanted to know what went down, I told her it was no rush and that she could tell me when she was ready to talk about it.

“We were not.” I giggled. “How would you know when you were over on the floor snoring?”

“I don't snore.”

“You sure as hell were last night.”

“Whatever, Lo. All I know is that pretty soon I'm going to be a third wheel around here,” Dinah said, downcast.

Going over to take a seat at the table with her, I said, “That's not true. Dude, you're both of our friends. You're my main for life. Nothing could ever come between us. Not even Camz.”

Dinah was dubious. She just looked at me. “Not even Camz, huh? I've seen the way you look at her. I've also seen you with a ton of other girls and you've looked at none of them quite the same way.”

“I mean, it's not that serious. We just flirt, that's all.”

“Well, that's how it starts. I know you want more than that. I want it to be more than just a flirtationship too, because you two are good together.”

“I'm just going with the flow. Whatever happens between us happens. We're just floating along in the river of friendship, soon on our way to _relationship_.”

Dinah stopped painting a nail all of the sudden and examined me carefully. “Are you high?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “No.”

“Oh. Usually you say shit like that only when you are.”

“I'm just in a great mood. You know.”

My phone on the table buzzed. I answered with hesitance because it was a number I wasn't familiar with. Could be a client.

“Hello, this is Lauren Jauregui speaking.”

“You sound all professional, which is what you're not, so I'm confused.”

“Sadie,” I said gravely, shaking my head in annoyance. “I'm as professional as it gets.”

“Hmm... My last photographer didn't try to jump me,” she teased, sounding quite adorable; I must admit. “Speaking of that, I was thinking about you a lot last night.”

My eyes danced around the room, slowly widening. Maybe she didn't mean it like that. Dinah noticed the look on my face. She'd been watching me ever since I picked up, giving me the silent speculative look people give you when they want to know who it is that you're talking to.

“You were uh, thinking of me? I hope you don't mean what I think you mean, because that would be kind of inappropriate, and I'm afraid I'd have to tell your mother.”

I wasn't trying to come off as fliratious, but apparently I was because Dinah gave me a look that I knew all too well. Her head lolled, then she shook it in disappointment and exhaustion.

Sadie merely laughed. “You have a bad, bad mind, Lauren Jauregui. You left something here last night, some kind of schedule/planner thing. That's why I was thinking of you.”

“Oh. I did? I didn't even realize I didn't have it.”

“So, will you be coming by today to get it?” She sounded hopeful, but somehow not desperate at all.

I knew she wanted to get me back in that poolhouse while her parents were at work so we could finish what we started, but truthfully, I didn't want to finish anything. Sure, Sadie was undeniably hot, and tempting, but I couldn't. And I didn't know how to break it to her that I possibly had someone. At the same time, I didn't want to tell her that, because I wasn't sure if I even had anyone in the first place.

Camila and I weren't together yet, but here I was trying to do the right thing and remain faithful, because chances are if Camila were to find out about Sadie, she'd be upset. That was something I didn't want. Hell, Camila and I might as well go ahead make things official.

“No, I don't think so. I suppose I could get it tomorrow when I come over for the engagement party. Today's a busy day for me and all. I wouldn't be able to fit it in my schedule.”

“Oh, I see. You get a joy out of leaving girls high and dry, don't you?” Sadie jested.

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. “Not necessarily, Sadie. I just think that perhaps yesterday was a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” She adopted an unfriendly tone all of the sudden, totally flipping a script on me. “Actually, things were pretty simple to understand yesterday, so I don't think so. You initiated things, and now you say it was a misunderstanding? I'm sorry, is there something wrong with your brain?”

_Probably._

“Well, excuse me for my poor choice of words, Sadie,” I hissed, holding back venom. “I meant a mistake, not a misunderstanding. A mistake.”

Sadie remained quiet for a long time – so long that I thought she had hung up. Dinah was listening closely, all in the conversation like her life depended on finding out what the matter was.

“That's fine,” she said finally.

“Sadie.”

“No. Really, it is. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

I liked to think that if she was really angry with me she wouldn't have took the time to wait for me to actually respond. Sadie wasn't afraid to express _exactly_ what she was feeling or thinking.

“Okay. See you then”

She hung up.

Dinah was grimacing. “Who in the hell is Sadie?” she demanded, sounding more like my girlfriend rather than my friend.

“Client.”

“Didn't sound like it.” She moved in closer, her whole mood seeming to lift. “Spill. Tell me all about that misunderstanding yesterday, Lo. Well, mistake, or whatever it was.”

I had my hand on my forehead, sighing in exhaustion. The day had just started and here I was already exhausted. Not physically, but mentally. I cut my eye up at Dinah to see an easy smile playing on her lips. The sight made me feel slightly better for a little.

Dinah loved some gossip, and I usually told her everything to get it all off my chest. So this friendship worked quite well.

“You know who she is,” I grumbled and sighed loudly. “That girl from the ice cream parlor, the one I told you about who lives at that huge house. The rich girl who wants to be a model. And she is a client, but very briefly yesterday afternoon she was possibly something more.”

“And now she's not?”

“Didn't you just hear me end any possibility of whatever it was she thought was going to happen in the future?”

Dinah was quiet a moment, and looked around the room as if lost in thought. “You slept with her?”

“I kissed her. We almost slept together, but um, something got in the way. I led her on basically, not on purpose. I was just being stupid yesterday. And keep in mind this was before Camila let me in on the fact that she has feelings for me.”

“So you are taking my advice...” She was all smiles. “Not leading Camila on by bringing some other girl in the mix and pretending her feelings don't matter. You saw things were getting out of hand with Sadie and you shut it down. I'm proud of you.”

I forced a smile as Dinah leaned forward and gave my shoulder a little shake, but soon looked off elsewhere.

“Yeah. I'm proud of me too,” I said, chuckling halfheartedly.

_Actually, I'm sick of myself. I lied to Sadie, practically stole from her and then led her on; got her thinking I was interested. Maybe yesterday, while high and not in my right mind, I was. Maybe while not in my right mind, I wouldn't have thought twice about fucking her. But today I'm not interested. Today, I would think. Today, I only want Camila._

_And now, tomorrow I'll have to face her._

Sliding back from the table and standing, I said, “Let's get ready to go get your stuff. I've got to go to the bathroom first to get something. On the ride there, you're telling me everything that happened between you and Siope, because I told you what happened yesterday. So be ready.”

 


	15. it is definitely what it looks like

It was a quarter to nine. I was in a corner of the huge ballroom discreetly taking down a glass of scotch. Yeah, the Castiles had a ballroom. How fancy, right?

The engagement party was still pretty lively, despite the fact that we were about two hours into it. It was boring, and I felt like I was being suffocated by the crowds of people greeting and talking happily, getting to know each other or catching up.

Being surrounded by a bunch of rich snobs wasn't exactly my cup of tea. Sadie had been avoiding me all night, weaving in and out of crowds right past me like I was invisible, which was a good thing. I had Percocet in my system and the last thing I needed right now was her acting all bitchy and bringing me down from my high.

I poured myself another half-full glass, chugged it down and went back into action. I'd already gotten photos of the bride-to-be and groom-to-be with each other, all snuggled up in a hug like they were the only two in the room. Looking at the pictures I took of them alone was refreshing. Gave me hope.

They looked so happy together, like it was them against the world and nothing could tear them down as long as they had each other. I longed for something special like that with someone. Just for once. I truly believed that I was ready for that now.

I'd snapped a few of them with their families, people dancing, having a joyful time and smiling. The environment was a very rejuvenating one too be in, but I was already happy in my own head. I was in my own little world where everything was fine; where it was just me and my camera. I felt as if I was in a large bubble, blocked off from these annoyingly happy people, but when they spoke or smiled at me to be friendly, I smiled back with ease.

A few minutes ago the family members did speeches. The bride-to-be's father went before everyone and said some heartfelt things that made everyone tear up, including me. Then they did a toast and now it was pretty much back to socializing. I felt like my job was done, but I certainly didn't want to leave all of this booze any time soon.

I spotted Sadie over by the door with a couple of other girls she'd been with all night. She was smiling about something, looking like a goth princess in her little black dress and blood red lipstick, so I stalked ahead and took a few candid shots of her. As I neared her, she caught me in the act and just stared, the smile on her face vanishing. But she wasn't scowling either.

The flash went off again once I knelt and took another. She blinked as if she'd been blinded, causing me to smile wryly. When she saw this, she couldn't hold back one either.

“Did you get me in that picture?” asked a ditzy looking brunette in a white cocktail dress.

She had to have been related to Sadie, because they resembled each other quite a lot. Smiling, I nodded and took another. The brunette rushed over to my side carefully in her heels to get a look at the screen of my camera. Then the rest came to see whether or not they looked good in the photos, and begged for me to delete the ones in which they weren't paying attention.

“I look like an idiot in that one.”

“Yeah, you do look pretty fucking stupid,” added another adorable brunette with bright green eyes.

“You both look stupid,” whispered another, chuckling mischievously to herself.

“It's called a candid for a reason. You all look beautiful. I find that humans look the most photogenic when they aren't aware of the fact that they're being photographed, when they're not 'camera ready', but just acting natural.”

Sadie hadn't moved from her spot by the door. She had her arms crossed and was holding a drink in one hand close to her face. She wasn't focused on that though – all of her attention was on me. Her head was tilted to the side slightly and she fixed me with that intent unreadable gaze. It was all too familiar, but I didn't know the first thing on her mind. I couldn't even guess.

“Sadie's the only one who actually looks decent.”

“Well, she's the model, isn't she?” I remarked, my eyes never leaving her.

She removed herself from where her feet seemed to be rooted to the floor to join the group of girls crowded around me. My jaw slacked as she came forward. I couldn't simply ignore how attractive she was. All I felt for her was lust, and it just wouldn't go away. It was the most frustrating thing in the world at the moment, my inability to look away from her.

She had her hair pulled back at the front in the middle and the rest cascaded down her back and shoulders in loose curls. And my God, that red lipstick.

Sadie approached my side. sat her arm on my shoulder. She glanced at me with what looked to be a forced smile. I braced myself, because I knew she was going to say something, but I didn't know what. You never knew what was to come with Sadie.

“Guys, this is my friend, Lauren Jauregui. She's also the photographer my mom hired,” she said simply, and turned her head to look me in my eyes. “And, she's helping me get my modeling career started.”

Certainly was not expecting that. Friend? Was this some kind of show she was putting on for some reason?

Deciding to go along, I grinned and brought her against me in a hug, my hand sliding across the small of her back. Sadie reached back with haste and vehemently removed my hand, giving me a brief quizzical look.

“These are my cousins, Lauren. There's Calista, Nora and Hazel. They're all sisters.” She was referring to the three girls that had been flocking to her all night.

They were all extremely hot so it was no doubt that they were related.

“Nice to meet you girls. I met your other cousin, the one getting married. I believe her name is Maria,” I said.

Sadie nodded.

“You Castiles have impressive genes. Lovely family you have here.”

The three sisters laughed, obviously flattered as they exchanged looks.

“Well, this is only half. The decent half. My family back in Louisiana are pretty much...hillbillies. No class whatsoever.” Sadie laughed heartily.

I chuckled. “Your uncle Scott seems pretty cool. You know, he and my dad are good friends. He doesn't seem like much of a hillbilly to me.” I nudged her shoulder playfully.

“He and my mom are the only one who have sense. They left that kind of environment when they were young. Why my mom decided to go back and raise our family there, I don't know. I think I would have liked growing up in Miami.”

A man in uniform sashayed by with a tray of drinks in skinny glasses. I grabbed one instantly and asked, “Is there alcohol in this?”

The man nodded. I gulped it down all at once and slammed it back on the tray. He gave me an odd look. Sadie rolled her eyes as if she was embarrassed, while her cousins thought I was a total comedy.

“Miami is great. I love Miami. I've been here all my life and I don't think I'll ever leave,” I said fondly, casually glancing around the room while I grabbed another drink from the tray inconspicuously before the man waltzed off.

Calista nodded in agreement. “We all grew up here, except for Sade.”

“You all have such beautiful skin tones, I swear.”

“You have a beautiful face,” said Nora, all googly-eyed. “How old are you?”

I smirked, and her eyes got even more googly.

She looked about fifteen, that was just an estimate.  _Aw, this little teenager has a crush on me. How adorable._  I snickered by accident, quickly looking so I wouldn't laugh in her face.

“Why are you so fucking weird, Nora? Jeez, you just ruined a perfectly normal compliment,” Hazel fussed, scoffing.

I watched the two go back and forth, interested in the bickering of two siblings for some reason. They reminded me of Taylor and I when we were younger. Hell, Taylor and I now, present day.

Calista just stood there beside the two all awkwardly like she didn't know what to do. Sadie merely shook her head, grabbed me by the arm and propelled me out of the noisy room.

“They're sisters. Nora's sixteen and Hazel's eighteen, so they fight often,” she explained.

“Understandable.” I trailed after her through the vacant halls of her home. “How old is Calista?”

Sadie looked at me funny. “Are you into my cousins?”

“No,” I said through a dumb grin after finishing up my drink. “They're like twelve.”

“Calista's twenty, like me.”

The boisterous roars of conversations in the ballroom were growing distant as we made our way across the foyer and into the kitchen. I wondered why Sadie had taken me from the party, but part of me also didn't care. I was just going with the flow here, and the silence was kind of peaceful.

“Sheesh, you're young. Did you know that when you were just exiting the womb, I was in kindergarten already?”

“Wow. That's a huge age gap,” Sadie said sardonically.

After flashing a grin at Sadie and charming the pants off of her, I helped myself to an already opened bottle of wine in the fridge, drank it right from the bottle like any lady with class would do.

“Do you like drinking?”

“It's my religion.”

“That sounds kinda plausible.”

“Because it is.”

“What else do you like?” Sadie inquired.

“Fucking,” I blurted, my eyes clinging to hers hungrily. “I like fucking.”

I saw her eyes widen slightly, then she looked down at her feet and adopted a sheepish expression. She looked like she didn't know what to say, like I'd just put her in a terrible position. Perhaps I had, but my vulgar thoughts were out of my mouth before I knew it.

“I'm sorry. That might have been slightly inappropriate...”

Suddenly she lifted her face and looked at me with incredulity.

“You seriously have no filter. It's not even funny.” She made a vain attempt to stifle laughter.

“I was just being truthful. I have the tendency to blurt the first thing that comes to mind when I drink. But doesn't everyone?”

“Why do I get the feeling that even if you weren't drunk you would have said the same thing?”

I smirked devilishly, feeling somewhat lightheaded all of the sudden, but didn't let it faze me. “Because despite the fact you've only known me for a week, you know me well.”

Everything got quiet between us. Sadie kept watching me though, smiling all coy-like.

“I like the fact that you think we should um, be friends,” I muttered after a while of prolonged silence, tipping the bottle back right along with my head.

Sadie came over and snatched the wine right from under my mouth and carefully placed it on the table. When I tried to go for it, she slapped my hands instantly and restrained me by the wrists. I obnoxiously burst out laughing in her face, allowing her to subdue me with no shame.

“Don't you have to drive home later?” she questioned, eyes narrowed and forehead scrunched up.

God, it was such a cute expression on her.

I wasn't paying her words any attention. Instead, my eyes kept falling from her lips to her chest, then back to her lips. Then before I knew it, I had my hands free and cupping her face with my mouth latched to hers as I guided her back against the counter.

Sadie didn't reciprocate at first, and tried pushing me back, her small hands pressed against my taut stomach. But she soon gave up, and gave in, and her touch grew gentle. She slid her palms up my abdomen, groping my chest through the fabric of my white dress shirt. We pulled away from the manic kiss, breathless and frantic with lust.

I hoisted her up on the counter and she wrapped her hand around the nape of my neck and soon began trailing her tongue along my collarbone. As Sadie planted kisses all along the line of my jaw, leaving a trail of lipstick, I fisted her hair with one hand while the other idled downtown, caressing the inside of her thighs tenderly. She aggressively undid the buttons on my shirt, kissing down my chest. I just laughed casually and released a big breath, throwing my head back.

“Hey, hey... I like this shirt, take it easy,” I slurred, shifting my hips against hers.

“Do you really think we should be doing this? I thought you said – ”

“Sadie, you're beautiful. I want you, just once. That's all I need.”

She looked troubled all of the sudden, cocking her head to the side a bit. “Just one time?” she asked in disappointment, her voice sounding angelic.

I smiled crookedly, pecking her lips repeatedly. Through kisses I said, “Your accent turns me on so much, and if you don't stop talking there's going to be a fucking flood in here.”

Sadie burst out laughing, letting her forehead fall upon mine. I shut her up with a hard kiss. Her soft and tender lips followed suit shortly after. She grabbed my collar as the kiss deepened, snaking her long legs around my waist and grinding against me.

Her dress was up and her legs all exposed, my hands grasping onto her thighs readying to splay them when we heard an appalled cry of absolute horror: “ _MOTHER OF GOD, WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS”._ Something cold ran up my spine and every hair on my body stood up on end.

Sadie, startled by the loud outburst, took a chunk out of my lip with her teeth, and even when I recoiled and instinctively shoved her back against the cabinets, yelping and cursing in the process, she still didn't notice. Her eyes went all crazy, trained on whoever it was behind me, and her face turned nearly crimson.

A metallic taste flooded my mouth. I staggered back drunkenly with my hand covering my bloody lips and spun around to see Castile and some other woman. Their expressions were identical. Mouth agape, eyes about to come out of their head. Distraught. Speechless.

Sadie hopped off the counter and stood tall after fixing herself. “Mom,” she said, her voice hollow and trembling. “It's not what it looks like. This is all just a misunderstanding. Lauren and I are just friends, and – ”

Castile couldn't even look at Sadie. She averted her gaze in utter disgust, a snarl of disdain at her lips. “Do  _not_ talk to me. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. You know I don't like this kind of activity, this filthiness, so what do you do? You go and behave like a whore with someone whose company I enjoy... You are nothing but a mere disgrace.”

She shot me a glare, pointed at me threateningly and said, “You.” She stalked closer, and I eased backward on instinct, crashing into the wine collection on the counter like a klutz. With me hemmed up and her finger in my face, she continued: “I don't ever want to see your face again. You get your drunk ass out of my house and don't ever come back, you hear? I'm sure Sadie wouldn't mind driving you home. And after you're done dropping her off, Sadie, don't come back tonight, or ever. I couldn't possibly care less.”

Sadie stormed past me and out of the door that led out to the courtyard. I casually wiped the blood from my mouth, stood there for a couple of more moments, unsure of what to do. Before going after Sadie, I snatched the bottle of wine I was drinking from, drank the rest of it and took off.

I was a little off balance, but still capable of keeping myself up. I figured Sadie would go out to the poolhouse, so that's where I checked first. This action was in vain though, because all I found in the poolhouse were her brothers and other family members playing Xbox. They eagerly invited me to join them, but I kindly turned them down.

After a while, I gave up on trying to find her and went out to my car. That's where she was, to my surprise. Leaning up against the driver's car door expectantly.

“Get in the car, Lauren,” she demanded.

“I want to talk.”

“We can talk in the car if you just fucking get in the thing.”

My shoulders slumped. “I was high Thursday. I don't have a fucking back problem. I stole your pills and I took them to get high. I was high earlier, but it's worn off and now all I feel like doing is telling the truth and I can drive my own self home because I'm not drunk. And I don't like you in any emotional way. I mean, you're a good person and you're fun to be around, I guess, but all I'm concerned about is getting in your pants. There's someone else, and I've never felt this way about anyone, and I told myself I wouldn't be turned on by you tonight to the point where I can't control myself, but I started drinking and that got me a little tipsy and I just lost control. I am fucking sorry. I'm a mess, Sadie.”

She just stared at me blankly, her arms crossed over her chest. “You are slurring and you can barely keep your balance. Get in the car.”

I felt like throwing a tantrum. “Well, how the fuck are you going to get back home?” I said through my teeth.

“There's no need to get angry, Lauren. I'll take a cab or something. Where are your keys?”

“You're not driving me home. I'm not drunk or anything. If you'd just listen to me, you'd know that...”

I grabbed her by the arm and demanded for her to listen to me but she instantly broke away, shaking out of my grasp.

A scowl was set over her soft features. “Don't touch me!” Sadie hissed, grapling my shoulders and slamming me against the car window. “When I told my cousins that you were my friend, that was my way of accepting ' _you know what, alright, she doesn't want to screw me because obviously there's someone else in the picture, and of course if she doesn't want to screw me, then she doesn't want any kind of romantic relationship either, but that's okay, I'm fine with that. We can just be friends.'_ But then once we're in the kitchen you start getting all seductive and try to take advantage of me once again. And I also learn that you fucking lied to me, and you're an alcoholic junkie who doesn't care about anyone else's feelings but your own.”

“That is...not true,” I protested drunkenly, breathing heavily. I'd never wanted to hit someone harder than I wanted to hit Sadie Castile right now. I wanted her out of my face right now before all of my anger overflowed and oozed out like lava from a volcano.

The ire in my gaze apparently did not faze her.

Sadie's eyes widened. She looked at me with such rage and disbelief. “You just fucking said that a minute ago!”

Inevitably, I explode. Breaking out of her restraint, I sling her body away from mine with the back of my arm. “Taking advantage of you? You wanted it just as much as I did, Sadie. Don't pull that crap. You went along with it all. I like to think that if you wanted to be just friends, you would've stopped me, not kiss back with your tongue down my throat!”

My head began to throb, and I clutched it in agony as I fell back against the side of my car. Sadie was right. I couldn't drive myself home in this condition, but no way was I going to admit that. And I was clearly feeling more belligerent than normal. Had I been sober, perhaps I wouldn't have gotten physical with her just a moment ago. Though I can be a hothead, I would have handled it in a more calm and collected manner.

“And I am not an alcoholic, or a junkie!” I screamed to the top of my lungs. “You don't fucking know me! You calling me those things is like me calling you a whore!”

Sadie only shook her head down at the ground, sighing in exhaustion.

“Lauren,” she called very calmly. “I don't want to do this, and I don't want you to die tonight. If you could just get in the car, I could take you home and you won't have to see my face again.”

“Fuck you. I don't care if I fucking die, and neither do you. You would just feel guilty if something happened.”

“No, actually I wouldn't because it would be your own fault.”

“Then take your little rich ass back in that house with your rich ass snobby family and let me be, you bitch!”

We argued back and forth for what seemed like hours, but was actually only minutes, until I finally loaded my ass into the passenger seat. I called Camila and asked her the address to my own apartment, because Sadie needed to know and I had forgotten. I think after that phone call, Camila knew I would be coming home an utter mess.

The car ride was dead silent. Sadie didn't say a word and neither did I. Although I felt like being rude and saying things, even in my state of drunkenness I realized that I didn't mean those things, so what was the point of saying them? She was doing me a favor, and even though she'd yelled at me and I'd yelled at her, in a way this somehow defined friendship.

A totally fucked up friendship that more than likely wouldn't last very long, but nonetheless a real one.

* * *

I was awakened the next morning by quiet sweet singing and fingers combing through my hair. My head lay in someone's lap, and that someone was none other than Camila. Rolling over on my back, I peeled my eyes open to see her face above mine. The first thing she said was, “You know what, Laur? One day you're going to get alcohol poisoning if you keep this up.”

A smile stretched across my sleepy features, despite the fact that she seemed serious. I rubbed my face and struggled to sit up straight, eventually just laying back down on Camila's thighs.

“You sound just like my mother. What happened last night? I remember the engagement party, but I don't remember driving home...”

“That girl Sadie drove you home,” Camila stated matter-of-factly. “She was really nice and gentle with you, but you were all belligerent and kept cursing everyone out, kind of physical with us too. Do you have any recollection of that?”

I groaned in aggravation, rubbing the heel of my hand into my eye. “I don't think I want to recollect any of that.”

Upon looking into her eyes and studying her face, I came to realize that her eyelids were red, which meant she had been crying. This alerted me right away, but at first I was hesitant to bring it up.

“Well, she's quite easy on the eyes. You two go well together, I suppose.”

“Whoa, whoa – don't go supposing things like that. We aren't dating, it's nothing like that. She wants to be a model and I'm helping her with a portfolio, that's all.”

She bit her lip and stared off in space, appearing conflicted with uncertainty. There was a faraway look of despair in her eyes and for some reason, I sensed that she knew something I didn't, and that everything we were discussing now was merely a test. My eyes narrowed as I swallowed the forming lump in my throat.

She timidly said, “So, it was never anything more?”

Her gaze was like a magnet. My green orbs were north and her chocolate pools were south, and boy, was the magnetic force ever so strong.

“No,” I assured.

“Lauren...” she paused to laugh, just to make light of the situation because it all seemed too serious for us. “It's okay if there's something going on with her. It's not like I own you. You're not my...girlfriend. I just want to know, because I do like you in a, um, romantic way, but if there's someone else...”

I moistened my lips, just watching her fondly as she behaved all frantic about the situation. I smiled wearily and simply shook my head, now sitting up at her side.

“There is no one. I'm not even attracted to her, at all.” My gaze fell to the floor briefly, and I held my hands together in a ball in my lap, feeling awkward all of the sudden. Soon enough, I glanced back up to get a glimpse of her expression, to see whether or not she believed me. “She can be a bitch and somewhat arrogant, too, but she's a client, you know. I'm just trying to do my job so I can get her money. I don't...particularly care for Sadie, but with you, it's a whole other story.”

Camila seemed to smile a bit, but it wasn't wholehearted. “Is it? Tell me.”

“Well, I care about you. I'm fond of you,” I said in a soft tone, reaching out to cup her face in my hand “You're special to me in a way, and I respect you. I've never felt this way about anyone. I've never really felt much at all, until I met you.”

“Sounds like something out of a Nicholas Sparks book.”

“Since when does Sparks write novels about a depressed lesbian sociopath who finally meets someone whom she feels she could actually truly love one day in the future?”

“I don't know,” she said morosely, not looking me in the eye anymore.

I studied her for a long time, my face blank of emotion. She didn't dare look up at me not once until I asked, “Going to tell me why you were crying?”

“Who said I was crying?”

“I can tell...”

She hesitated a moment. “For no reason. I'm just overly emotional today, and I was worried about you. Still am, actually.”

“There's nothing to worry about, Camz. I'm fine.” I was still caressing her face, just admiring the beauty of it from my angle, but much to my dismay, that didn't seem to ease her. She still wore a troubled expression.

Camila recoiled at my touch. “I think I'll always worry about you, Lauren.”

Without a word, because I didn't know how to respond to that, I helplessly watched her leave the room. I buried my face in my hands and sat sulking on the couch for a little while.

It was Sunday. Sundays are boring, especially when people are acting strange and not being particularly direct about things. Camila seemed bothered, maybe even angry. Most of the time when she was mad, she tried to hide it, but she wasn't very good at suppressing her emotions.

Maybe she saw through my lies somehow. Maybe she knew that I had made out with Sadie twice and initiated the whole thing on both accounts. But how?

A part of me felt like a snake for lying right to her face. I wasn't lying when I said I had respect for her, because if I didn't then obviously there would be no remorse for telling a lie. But in all actuality, it wasn't that big of a deal because her and I weren't dating,  _and_  what happened between Sadie and I last night wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

I got some Aspirin to resolve some headache action I had going on and went into my room where Freya was sound asleep in my bed. I wanted to collapse on the mattress right next to her but the need to urinate was bothering me. So, first stop: to the bathroom!

My eyes closed, I drowsily trudged in to my bathroom and began unbuttoning the buttons of my dress shirt. I glanced up at the mirror before me, back down at my shirt, but something caught my eye in the mirror. And that's how I came to notice the prominent lipstick stains on the collar of my shirt and the red faded and smudged imprint of lips all over my neck.

“Holy fuck.”


	16. maybe home is in her arms

Camila didn't talk to me much at all for the rest of the weekend, or the week after that, and the one after that as well. She kept her distance and it felt like she'd never even admitted to having feelings for me in the first place. I couldn't tell if it was jealousy she felt or a feeling of betrayal over the fact that I'd lied to her face.

She never said it, but I just got the feeling that she was the type of person who would think, _well if she lies now then she'll lie forever._

Why get comfortable with someone like that, right?

That did not throw me off my game, though. Of course not. Over the course of two weeks, I tried talking with her. I tried buying her things and tidying up her room when I had time before she got home. When I talked to her, it was like she wasn't there with me. When I did her a favor, she acknowledged it by saying “thanks” or “that was nice of you”, and that was the end of it. Nothing more.

I couldn't give up though.

Sadie and I made amends. We didn't fall out like I thought we would after my drunken night at her house. In fact, we'd been hanging out a lot. I didn't feel anything for her anymore, not as intensely as before. It was strictly business between her and I, with a hint of a budding friendship in the mix somewhere.

I didn't avoid thinking about Sadie in that weird way simply for the hope that Camila and I would make up sometime soon. I just didn't want to have sex with her while in a sober state of mind. Besides, Sadie was too bossy for my liking, somewhat like my ex, but not as bad. We would never have made it as a couple. Not even friends with benefits. As long as things stay platonic, I don't see a problem with her.

She had a slight problem with growing too attached, while I had a problem with growing abnormally detached. The only person I could see myself getting serious with as of today lived in the same house as I, yet she was relentlessly avoiding me. Talk about a bummer.

Another reason why Sadie was growing on me was because we'd been through much of the same things. We've both had a parent not exactly approve of who we are. Also, when she was fourteen she lost a brother. The guy killed himself, which is fucked up and not something I would have ever guessed. I suppose every family has their skeletons though.

I wouldn't say she was as damaged as me, but on a scale of slightly damaged to majorly fucked up, she was the first and I was the latter.

Dinah didn't approve of that fact that I was friends with Sadie, because she didn't believe that it was possible for _me, Lauren Jauregui_ to be merely friends with someone as pretty as Sadie Castile and not be sleeping with her. _Oh yeah, I'm a big whore in the eyes of Dinah Jane. But that's okay. If you're not a whore, how else are you going to get a lot of action?_

Calm down. A majority of my thoughts are sarcastic and filthy. Don't take them literally.

Apparently, Camila didn't approve either. Truthfully, though, it was all a matter of willpower. If you don't think about how hot a friend is, chances are you won't want to jump their bones. Well, that's how it had always been to me at least. I never thought about how hot Dinah is strictly for that reason...

The reason why I wanted to fuck Sadie before was because I didn't necessarily think of her as a friend. She was just some random hot chick who wanted to be a model with rich parents, but now, I suppose she was more than that. I guess with all the talking to each other about our lives and who we really are had brought us close.

 

Her and I were casually sitting on the couch in my apartment, playing the Wii that she brought over from her place.

Classic Mario Kart, and we had the steering wheels and everything. I wished Freya was home playing with us and not at school. I knew how that girl hated leaving the house in the morning and I knew it'd be a whole lot more fun to hang out with your terrific aunt all day playing video games, so it bothered me that I was without her for eight hours during the week. But hey, taking her to school daily was the responsible thing to do.

I briskly glanced at the clock and then back at the TV screen. Luckily for her she only had about an hour left.

“If you hit me with another fucking red turtle shell, I am going to quit playing,” said Sadie, ramming her shoulder into mine.

Jabbing her in the arm, too engrossed in the game to laugh, I leaned over on the couch to get away. “I don't think it'd be possible to hit you with another shell since you're in last place and I'm in first. Even Donkey Kong is ahead of you. He's like the slowest bastard in the game,” I teased.

“Well, everyone's ahead of me because you and those stupid turtle shells.”

My character, Yoshi, passed the finish line in first place and the race ended for me. “Hey.” I aimed a hand in the direction of the TV. “If the turtle shells were really that unfair, I don't think they'd be on the game.”

Annoyed, she shook her head continuously. Sadie finished the race in last place and threw her steering wheel down to the coffee table. I made a comment about how it was her stuff she was manhandling there, not mine. She didn't hear a word I said though, because Sadie seemed to go deaf when she was angry enough, which was a good thing at times where I didn't know when to stop jokingly talking shit.

“They're a total advantage for someone who has them but a disadvantage to the person who gets knocked off their fucking wheels,” she explained.

I just smirked and gave her a sidelong glance as she went on and on about how many things were unfair in the game itself. She wasn't going to stop talking about those damn red turtle shells. Last time we played Mario Kart it was the lightning bolt that shrinks everyone in size, but even I've got to admit, that pisses me off as well. It _is_ just a game though.

Fortunately, I was saved by a knock at the door. Even then she didn't shut up. As I got up to get the door, I waited until my back was turned to her before I laughed silently to myself.

To my surprise, Ally was on the other side of the door with her son Tate. She smiled all cutely only to have me ambush her with a bear hug.

“Ally. Hey, what's up? Totally wasn't expecting you.” I ruffled Tate's dark shaggy hair and patted him on the back, bringing him into the hug.

“Sorry for not calling first, but I was in the neighborhood and I haven't seen you in a while,” she said.

I drew back to look at her, smiling in content. “No need to apologize. This is a pleasant surprise. Come on in.”

Sadie was still seated on the couch, turned so she could see who it was at the door. She soon stood, a friendly grin on her face but a curious glint in her eyes. Perhaps she was expecting me to introduce her to my friend. Ugh, I hated introducing people to each other. That's always been an awkward thing for me.

With my hands deep in the pockets of my sweatpants, I sheepishly forged over to where Sadie was standing by the couch. Blowing out an overwhelmed sigh, I glanced between my two friends, my brows upraised.

“Ally, this is Sadie, a friend of mine. Sadie, this is Ally. We're friends, we go way back.”

Sadie smiled easily and did the head nod of acknowledge thing toward Ally, which meant _hello, what's up, que pasa,_ something like that. I never really understood that gesture, but Sadie did it a lot and lately I found myself doing it a lot without even realizing.

Ally mirrored the gesture, looking unsure of herself for a second. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Now what was it I was saying about introducing people to each other being painfully awkward?

Tate was hiding behind Ally's leg, timidly peeping out from behind her to get a look at Sadie. Sadie lowered down to his height and smiled.

“What about you, little guy? What's your name?”

He pouted, looking up at his mom for assistance. Ally nodded and urged the boy to speak.

“Tate,” he said, smiling and covering his face.

“He can be pretty shy around people he doesn't know well,” Ally informed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes playfully.

Sadie sighed. “You better grow out of that, boy. You're gonna be breakin' hearts pretty soon.”

Ally and I laughed.

“Right? He's adorable.” I picked him up and lifted him high in the air above my head, tickling him while he laughed and laughed like a maniac, his face soon turning red. “Kid's going to be playing girls left and right!”

He soared around the living area in my hands above me and I made airplane noises. Tate's smile and his laughter was contagious.

“She knows all about that,” Ally muttered to Sadie.

Sadie snickered, looking away. After giving Ally that _c'mon, really_ look, I made sure Tate had a safe landing.

“What?” Ally asked.

“I heard that.”

“Lauren,” Tate called, tapping my arm. Once he got my attention, he pointed to the television. “Can I play the game?”

“Sure.” I set up the single player mode for him on Mario Kart and let him have his fun.

This would keep him quiet for ages if we let him play that long. Ally had went over and taken a seat at the bar and picked up a random magazine lying on the counter. Meanwhile, Sadie was rummaging through my cabinets for who knows what.

When I joined them in the kitchen she said, “Oh. Lauren, can I get something to drink?”

“Help yourself, as you were already doing,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Glasses are all the way on the end to the right.”

“What have you guys been up to today?” Ally inquired, glancing up from her magazine.

I leaned forward over the countertop, taking a bite out of an apple. “Well, earlier Sadie and I headed to the beach to take some pictures. I've been helping her with a modeling portfolio.”

“Mhm. That's right,” Sadie added happily.

“You're a model? That's awesome.”

“Just finished up with that shit.” I was distracted by the action of twisting the stem on the apple, but then glanced sideways to see Sadie easing next to me with a drink in her hand. “Casting call or whatever's tomorrow right?”

“Yeah.”

“I wish you good luck,” Ally said.

I crinkled my nose at Sadie, feigning disgust. “Yeah, guess I do too. Even though you annoy me.”

Sadie grinned that million dollar smile of hers, tilting her head to the side all modest and coy. I scoffed, because she was anything but modest.

“Thank you, Ally. I appreciate that.” She turned to me, her pearly whites vanishing. “You annoy me too.”

Ignoring her, I nonchalantly said, “And then we decided to come back here and play some video games. Well, it was more of Sadie's decision. I don't know why she's always so eager to play video games with me. She loses every time.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

In my peripheral I could see her looking at me in annoyance and disbelief with her arms linked over her chest. Ally glanced between the both of us, a smile hesitant to stretch across her face. I was smirking so hard that one side of my face began to ache.

Teasing and taunting people was so fun. It was kind of my thing.

“Anyways, Ally, what have you been up to?” I questioned. “How's Troy?”

“The usual. Taking care of Tate every day, you know. He had a doctor's appointment today. And Troy's good.”

“Everything go well at the doctor's?”

“Yep. Tate's a pretty healthy boy.”

“Good, good. You heard from Mani lately, dude?”

“I talked to her last night,” said Ally.

“Chick never calls me anymore. I guess she must be too busy fucking her students or something.”

The only person in the room crude enough to laugh right along with me on that was Sadie, which is another reason why I was growing fond of her. I knew Ally wouldn't laugh, I wasn't expecting that. Dinah would have laughed her ass off.

Sadie was staring at me in curiosity, because she didn't know the backstory but was still laughing. I explained to her that I had a friend named Normani who was a teacher.

“Lauren!” Ally was incredulous, and then she sighed. “You do know that she teaches _middle school students,_ right?”

“Damn. I thought it was ninth grade?”

“Seventh grade.”

I groaned, dismissing her with the wave of my hand. “Ugh. Close enough. Either way, if she is it's still a felony. I'm going to call her after I go pick up Freya and ask her if she wants to come over. We can have a little reunion. You know, Dinah moved in a couple of weeks ago.”

“She did? Wow, the two best friends under one roof. That must get very hectic. There's no way I could be in Camila's shoes.”

“Yeah, she moved out of Siope's place 'cause they broke up. That bastard cheated on her, can you believe that?”

Ally's mouth fell open. “No way...”

“Yes, dude. She felt like such shit.”

“That's terrible. They've been together for awhile.”

“Exactly. Males suck. Hey, right, Sadie?” I nudged her shoulder, grinning and laughing like an idiot. “Good thing we're flaming homos.”

“Truthfully, I think you're more of a flaming homo than I am.”

“Shut the hell up, Sadie. Jeez, you fucking hillbilly.”

Sadie, unfazed by my insults, looked Ally right in the eye and said, “You see how she treats me?”

“That's just typical Lauren for you. I think I may be the only person she doesn't insult like that.”

I gazed at the counter, all of the sudden lost in thought. _I don't insult Camila. She's one of the two people I don't talk to like that. She said she doesn't like that, so I don't do it. She has that effect on me. Changing who I really am and not doing certain things just for her._

“She says I'm too tiny to insult.”

My eyes landed on Ally and I suddenly felt like I was back in the conversation again. Sadie was looking at me expectantly, like she'd said something and was now waiting for a response.

“You are,” I blurted. “I can't be mean to Ally. She's like a cute little ball of sunshine. But with the rest of my friends, when we get together it's like an insult competition. Especially Dinah and I.”

Ally giggled. “You and Dinah are outrageous.” She looked at me funny out of nowhere, a sly look coming over her face. “Oh, and I don't think you insult Camila like that either.”

“I have a slight disdain for every human being, and Camila is just like anybody else...”

_That's a lie. I have a soft spot for Camila; perhaps maybe one of the softest spots I've had in a long time. Something about her just makes my heart warm, and I can't ignore it, so I stopped trying. She isn't just like anybody else. She's the exact opposite. Something sacred, something that matters._

“Well then, excuse me.”

Sadie's face scrunched up. “You're so rude.”

I grabbed a two liter bottle of Pepsi that was almost empty from the fridge and headed out of the kitchen area. “Yeah, we've established that already,” I said passively, shrugging it off. “I'm going to go get Freya. Will you two be good here by yourself? No trashing my place?”

Ally and Sadie exchanged a look.

“I mean, I know you aren't going to do anything, Ally, but it's this Castile chick I'm worried about...”

“Fuck off, will you?” Sadie huffed.

“Easy on the foul mouth. We've got a child over there and my niece will be home soon, so shut the fuck up.”

Ally merely shook her head, because everything I'd just said was nothing but a paradoxical mess.

* * *

The sun was setting and everyone was here. Everyone except for Camz. She didn't get off work until six, which is when the library closed. It seemed like everyone had someone to occupy them at the moment but me. Sadie was getting along better with my friends than me, even with the one who hated her most, Dinah. I isolated myself from them a little over an hour ago. That's when I felt my mood plummeting.

An hour ago was when I texted Camila asking if she'd gotten the flowers I sent to the library. She read it and never replied, and I don't know what to make of that. Well, I can assume that she was probably angry, but here I was trying to make amends. She could have at least tried to work with me here.

Isn't it stupid to let someone else be in control your emotions? That's one thing I remember from my therapy sessions a few months back.

I was sitting squished in between two kids playing video games with my hands in my lap while my old friends sat around the dining table getting to know the newcomer Sadie. When I glanced back to see how that was going, Dinah was looking uncomfortable trying to mask her utter disdain for the girl who she believed was hindering the getting together of _“Camren”._

I knew my Dinah, and she couldn't hold things in for too long. Eventually it would all come crashing down like the water of a waterfall. I could tell from the way she was watching Sadie. She did the same thing I did, and we liked to call it the _psycho stare_. You'd have your head turned or cocked to the side just a little, a small smirk at the corner of your mouth that is barely visible, but there, and your gaze would be everlasting and intense, never leaving the person's eyes and holding nothing to keep them curious.

Dinah liked to say that I mastered it.

Freya was squirming too much at my side and it was irritating me, but I held back the urge to snap on her. She was having a great time playing some Sonic the Hedgehog game with Tate and I didn't want to ruin it for her. She'd been a great kid lately. Our relationship was only getting better and better and needless to say, I was beginning to favor her.

Ruffling both of the kids' head of hair, I removed myself from the Tate and Freya sandwich and spun around to look at my group of friends at the table. What the hell was Sadie talking about that had both Normani and Ally so interested? I mean, come on, she wasn't that interesting. Sighing to myself, I eased away from socialization and into my room.

My stash of narcotics underneath piles of clothes in my first dresser drawer was almost empty. For the past two weeks Sadie had been supplying me with anti-anxiety pills. Xanax, Valium, all that good stuff. Her father was a psychiatrist, so he had access to that kind of thing and he normally had all of the goods lying around in his bathroom somewhere for whenever he or anyone in his family needed them. Because Sadie was supposedly worried about my health, she only gave me a certain amount every week.

I told her I wasn't addicted to them and was merely using them because I'd suffered from anxiety in the past and felt it creeping back up on me, which was partially true, but she didn't believe me. Did anyone believe a word I said these days? She'd also been encouraging me to go speak with her father about my problems, telling me that he was a good man and a good doctor.

Good friendship, huh? All of this may or may not have been the only reason to keep her around. That's kind of shitty, isn't it? Yeah? Terrible people do terrible things. That's the only explanation for my actions.

I consumed the last bit of medication and stared at the now empty Altoids container. My bedroom door always creaked just slightly when opened, so I was surprised when I heard Sadie call my name, because I heard no creaking. I turned around immediately and inconspicuously placed the container back in the drawer with my hands behind my back.

“What's up with you?” she asked, chuckling a little to break the weird tension in the room.

Shifting uncomfortably with my hands in my pockets, I shrugged and averted my gaze. “Nothing. I just needed some silence for a moment.”

“Some silence, huh?”

I pressed my lips together, nodding uneasily.

“You wanna go for a drive or something? I could really use a ride home.” Sadie beamed, held my eyes a little longer, but eventually stopped smiling once she realized she wouldn't be getting a bit of amusement out of me.

She bowed her head and began walking the floors of my room, her arms crossed snugly. When she finally did look at me she was grimacing in defeat. It sparked up something in me, made me feel kind of bad. So I just turned my head, then I felt nothing at all again.

“Yeah,” I said finally, forcing a brief smile once our eyes locked. “Guess I could give you a ride home so you won't have to take a cab.”

“Are you in the mood to?”

“Trust me, if I didn't want to I wouldn't be doing it.”

Sadie nodded as if to say _you've got a point there._

“You're ready to go home now?” I asked.

“Sure. I should start getting ready for tomorrow.”

“Okay. Let's get going then.”

When we stepped out of my bedroom, Dinah was watching me like a hawk. I told the girls that I would be right back and that I was giving Sadie a ride home. Dinah's suspicion never died down, I saw it in her eyes, but she smiled and waved Sadie goodbye.

Freya caught me before I could go out of the door. “Aunt Lolo, where are you going?” she asked urgently and tugged at the hem of my shirt.

I squatted down to her level and put on a happy face for her, tucking a piece of hair behind her little ear. “I'm just going to give my friend here a ride home. I'll be right back, alright?”

Freya looked apprehensive, her bottom lip jutting out and eyes growing round. She glanced around at everyone, up at Sadie curiously, then back to me.

“I want to go with you,” she said, her voice cracking. “I don't want to stay here. I'm scared.”

“Scared of what? Dinah's here. So are Normani and Ally.” I pointed each of them out, my other hand on her shoulder. “They're my good friends. You can trust them. And you know you can trust Dinah. You like Dinah, right?”

Freya nodded, not appearing too pleased. “I just don't want you to leave me.”

“I'm not leaving you. I promise I will be right back.”

“Yeah, okay... When is Mila coming home?”

“Uhh, let's see...” I squinted down at my wrist, pressing my lips together. “She should be home in thirty minutes. That's not long at all.”

Giggling, she matched my smile and pointed at my wrist. “You're not even wearing a watch!”

“Yeah, I am,” I protested through a grin, rubbing her arm. “It's just invisible.”

“You are crazy!”

“Tell me something I don't know!” I reached forward and ambushed her with tickles, causing her to squirm and squeal like a pig. Eventually her laughter made her so weak that she fell into my arms, so, while still tickling her sides, I carried her over to the couch and placed her by Tate.

Tate was watching us and from the look on his face, he was hoping the tickle monster wouldn't pay him a visit. I stalked closer to him as he slid over stealthily, the silliest grin on his face. With my hands out in front of me I jumped at him, just to psych him out and the kid screamed bloody murder.

“Lauren, are you traumatizing my child over there?” Ally jested.

Sauntering back toward Sadie at the door, still suffering from a fit of laughter, I held my hands up in defense and wheezed, “No, I was just going to tickle the kid. He went and pissed his pants. I don't know. I'll be right back, you guys.”

Freya blew me a kiss as I was leaving out behind Sadie. I pretended to catch it in the air and place it in my pocket. She grinned. Her little face, aglow like a Christmas tree, was the last thing I saw through the crack of the closing door.

“You're good with kids,” Sadie noted once we were out in the parking lot.

I just looked at her, chewing the inside of my cheek. At first I thought she was joking, but no, she meant it. Her face held no kind of emotion. I contemplated this a moment with my eyes set on the ground as we walked for my jeep, then focused back on her.

“You think so?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I've been taking care of my neice now for about four weeks. I've got to play the role.”

Sadie's eyes narrowed as if she was reflecting. “So you don't really like kids? You're just faking it?”

“I mean, I like my neice. I like kids, they're alright or whatever. If I have to take care of her I'm not going to blatantly act like I hate her. At first I didn't like the idea of having a kid around, but you know, she's not that bad and she doesn't really have anyone, and she's growing on me... I love the kid.”

She looked at me as she got into the car, this goofy lopsided smile playing on her lips. “You know, just when I think you're kind of a shitty person, you redeem yourself, Jauregui.”

As the car roared to life, I sat back with a sigh, glanced over at Sadie and passively said, “Fuck you.”

She said nothing in response but she did roll her eyes and make a face. Typical.

Sadie had a car, of course she did. Her parents were rich and she was daddy's favorite. She had a Porsche for crying out loud. She'd just rather be seen riding around Miami with me in my cool Jeep Wrangler. Why? I wasn't aware. But some part of me got the feeling she was infatuated with me. I couldn't blame her if she still did feel that way, even after several talks we'd had about just wanting to be friends.

I was irresistibly charming, even when I didn't mean to be. She had once said my eyes did something to her. I didn't know what they did to her exactly, but judging from the way she'd sometimes stare at me and bite her lip during a conversation, I figured it had something to do with the department down south.

Sadie turned up the radio and switched it to some pop station. My eyes steadfast on the road, I blindly reached out and turned it back down. She went _“uggggggghhhhhh”_ and defiantly cranked up the obnoxious tunes once again. This time when I tried to cut it off, she grabbed my wrist before I could and begged me not to.

“Fine. You get two songs on this junk station, then I want it silent or playing my CD's,” I ordered, snatching out of her grasp.

“Yes ma'am.” She did that cutesy innocent smile of hers. “Your friends are pretty cool, you know. They're nice, but for some reason I get the idea that Dinah doesn't like me too much.”

My eyebrows pulled together as I faked a confused frown. _Of course Dinah despises you,_ I thought.

“That's crazy. She likes everyone. Think she was just in a bad mood today.”

“Really? Because I'm pretty sure she was giving me daggers the other times I came over too.”

I chuckled to myself. “You're just imagining it, Sadie.”

“Hmm.” She mused. “Maybe.”

Some time during the ride to Sadie's house my high kicked in and I was extremely mellow. We never started playing my CDs and if things got silent in this car I would have dozed off. She had me singing along to all of her favorite pop songs, my voice a monotonous murmur that only made me laugh halfway through a verse.

I was all over the steering wheel, wheezing out hysterical laughter. Maybe I shouldn't have been driving, because the action of driving itself seemed so stupid and pointless that I'd forget I was driving altogether and let go of the wheel. At one point, at a stop light, the light had been green for almost a minute yet I didn't notice until the cars behind me got a little impatient and blew their horns.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed as I looked around, cackling. “What was that?”

“The light's green. You can go now...”

“Oh.”

“You okay, Lauren?” Sadie questioned. “In other words, are you trashed and need me to take over the wheel?”

Her and I exchanged a look or two before I broke out in snickers. Sadie groaned when I nodded, took off her seatbelt as I was pulling onto the side of the road. She got out and I crawled into the passenger seat, giggling at nothing.

“How the fuck are you going to get home now in this condition?”

I zoned out, staring off in the distance through droopy eyes at the cars passing by. Sadie slapped me in the arm to wake me up, causing me to jump and look in her direction. She pushed me back against the seat, putting on my seatbelt for me.

My body felt so great. My skin was warm, my breathing slow but steady and it seemed that never before had a sense of euphoria hit me this hard. Sadie was livid apparently. She wore a scowl, her perfect eyebrows furrowing. I reached out and touched her face, dragging my fingertips across her smooth skin and making a big deal over how soft it was.

“Since you're mad at me I'm guessing now isn't a good time to ask if you could slip me some more Valiums, huh?”

She whipped her head in my direction to glare at me incredulously. If I weren't so high, those big hazel eyes would have intimidated me a little, but now all I could do was smile.

“You are fucking unbelievable.”

“Sadie, I only had a few more left – ”

“No, don't, Lauren. You're putting me in hard fucking predicament here and I don't know what to do. If you feel like you seriously need medication, which I know you don't, but if you do, go visit my dad at his office. Talk with him, he'll give you some kind of script, or maybe not. Maybe you should just quit this shit and go to talk with him about your problems. Even then he'll probably put you on something safe, something you can't abuse.”

I stared at her for a while, my mouth agape. “Uh, I think I'll go see 'em about the medication thing. I don't have any problems to discuss,” I slurred, my fingers caught in my hair. “I just feel empty, and when I don't feel empty I feel sad or like something's missing. At least I'm feeling something now. You understand that right?”

“I understand it, Lauren. I just don't think it's good. We kind of have a weird friendship thing going here, don't we? It's weird, it's kind of love/hate, but it's a _friendship_ , so I still have to care. Do you understand that?”

We locked eyes momentarily. “Kind of.”

Sadie sighed exasperatedly. “What do you mean by kind of? Do you not care about me?”

I cackled. “Kind of.”

“Okay,” she said calmly. “You're high, so I'm gonna let that one slide.”

“Can you get me some more or not?”

“No.”

Turning in my seat, I started nudging her with my fist. “Come on, Sadie. Help me out here.” I stared at her, feeling up her bare thighs.

Sadie had been working those shorts all day and up until now I had avoided getting a good look at her legs. It seemed as if now I couldn't quite resist.

She looked at me out the corner of her eye, fidgeting in her seat in what seemed like discomfort. “I thought we were past that,” she sputtered.

“We are,” I mumbled, stopping my hand from going any further.

“Then why the fuck are you touching me?”

“Impulse. I know it makes you weak.”

“Well, it's not going to work.”

“It worked last time. That night when we were parked outside your house and I fingered –”

“I wasn't thinking clearly that night,” She broke in. “And that was before we –”

“You aren't thinking clearly now either.” I drew imaginary circles on her inner thigh with the tips of my fingers.

Sadie paid me no mind. “That was before we had that talk about just wanting to be friends, for the _second_ time, let me remind you of that. I was okay with that, I still am. I just wish you would make up your mind about what you want. I know your mind is made up, but when you're like this you're not you. You're going to do something really stupid soon if you don't stop and you're going to regret it.”

I laughed wanly, wagging my head from side to side. “You fucking sound just like Camila. It's annoying.”

“Camila,” Sadie said thoughtfully. “You're in love with her, aren't you?”

“Love. That's a funny word. I can't think of any time I've ever meant it when I said it to anyone out of my family, but I think that if I was going to use it when talking about Camz, it would be kind of adequate. Very adequate.”

Sadie didn't say anything after that, so I decided to add, “Too bad she doesn't give a damn about me.”

“That day I called you a couple of weeks back when you told me you thought us almost sleeping together was a mistake, I figured there was someone else who had you strung out. And that night when I brought you home, I immediately realized it was her. I didn't think you lived with the girl you were falling for or whatever, you never mentioned that, so when I got you in the house of course it was too late to get rid of all lipstick on your neck. Honestly I didn't notice it before and I was already frustrated with you, so that was the last thing on my mind. The look on Camila's face when she saw that, she looked broken kind of, really conflicted. She stared at me for a while as I helped you into the house. She didn't look angry. She just looked so discouraged and disappointed. I felt so lousy that I told her sorry, and she thought I was saying sorry for letting you get in such bad shape, but really I was apologizing for just kissing you back when you kissed me drunkenly. Before leaving I watched you fall into her lap on the couch. She kissed your ear and you smiled against her thigh as she stroked your hair and ran her fingers down your back. You were so trashed, but you knew you were finally in a good place, where you belong. I think she gives a lot damns about you, Lauren. Maybe she just thinks you don't give one about her.”

“Maybe,” I said barely above a whisper, staring out the window. “She sees too much of me, Sadie. I think I've ruined it for myself because she lives with me and she's already seen the real me.”

“She likes the real you.”

I looked her up and down, sighing skeptically. “How do you know that?”

“Because the real you is likeable,” she said simply. “I like the real you.”

“Well, I don't.”

Leaning over on my knees, I stared down at my shoes, lost in a daze. I couldn't feel much sadness about my situation, about the matter we were discussing. I couldn't feel any real happiness either. All I could feel was a nice emotion called _oh okay, well whatever._

_Sweet indifference, I love you. You always visit me when I'm high, and you make things easier to endure. You are my savior._

“You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to turn around and take you home and I'll just catch a cab.” Sadie didn't appear to be bothered with having to do this, which vexed me.

“You sure?” I asked, not really caring.

“I'm sure.”

She made a U-turn and we were back on the way to my place. I saw Camila's car in the parking lot when we arrived. Freya was probably happy now that her second favorite person was home. She loved being around Camila. It was easy to see why. Camz was great with her and all of the goodness and love she had in that beautiful soul of hers radiated so immensely. How could one not love being around Camila?

I walked up the stairs freely, almost sloppily. My legs felt like jello but Sadie guided me from behind with her hands on my back. She smoothed over my flannel with them in a delicate manner, massaging my shoulders and saying encouraging things on our way up.

“You have a good night, Lauren,” Sadie said with a sweet smile as we stood outside my door.

My back was against the door frame, her hands still on my shoulders and her goddess-like face merely inches away from mine. This moment felt eternal, that's the only way I could describe it. Emitting a sigh of relief, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. I wanted to indulge in this moment, because I felt so appreciated. I didn't care whose, but I wanted hands on me. It felt so good to be caressed and squeezed and comforted.

“You too. Good luck tomorrow with the casting call. Call me and tell me all about it once it's over.” I smiled at Sadie, wiggling my eyebrows and looking at her through half-lidded eyes. “Tell your mother I said hi.”

Her laugh lines surfaced. “You're funny.” She fixed my collar and examined my face as if she was looking at it for the first time. “Her and I still aren't on speaking terms.”

I licked my lips, noticing how her gaze instantly fell down to watch. “That's a shame.”

“Yep. Something like that. Talk to you later. See ya.” Sadie drew back and continued backing away with her eyes set on me. She winked and disappeared around the corner.

The door opened suddenly, catching me off guard. It was Dinah. I blinked several times so my eyes would focus on her and brushed past her. Normani was still here but Ally and Tate were gone. Camila wasn't in sight. Probably in her room. That was the only place she stayed nowadays; locked away in her room. I suppose to get away from me.

I knew I needed to talk to her, but talking to her in this condition probably wasn't the best idea. Knowing me, I would say something stupid and not remember it at all in the morning, then that would lead to further questioning on why I wasn't able to recall.

“Where's Freya?” I asked.

Dinah was busy with a bowl of Ramen, so Normani spoke up. “She's with Camila in her room.”

“Oh, alright.” I looked down the hall to see Camila's door halfway open, the light on.

They were probably in there reading stories, or maybe Camila had decided to help her with her homework. Their bond made me happy.

As I went for the fridge a concerned Normani stepped to the side out of my way. With my back turned I could still feel her eyes on me. I didn't care to question it though; I was parched and had my mind set on one thing. A cold bottle of root beer.

“What's up with you lately?” Normani said softly. She had her arms crossed and was leaning back on the counter.

Dinah, still eating, looked up from her bowl of noodles like she was expecting an answer as well. My face scrunched up in confusion and I turned myself around to face her.

“Lately? You say that like you see me everyday and you're noticing a change in me. This is the first time you've seen me in almost two months, dude.”

“Last time I saw you you were the same way. Quiet. Detached.”

I felt as if this were some kind of intervention. All eyes were on me and I didn't like it. I was afraid to breathe, or even make a sound; afraid to move. My mask of confusion soon turned into a full on scowl. But I wasn't angry with them. I was angry with myself.

“I don't know,” I said simply, throwing my hands up at my side. “I'm fine. Just living. Just breathing.”

Normani was skeptical. “You don't call me up anymore.”

“I called you today and invited you over.”

“Which was a surprise.”

“Ally came over for no reason at all just to visit, which made me think of you, so I called you up. That's the full story right there. I missed you, Mani.”

“You don't sound too convincing.” She pulled a grin.

“I don't know why not,” I said through laughter and took a sip of my root beer. “Does it sound like I'm humoring her, Dinah?”

“Kind of.”

I rolled my eyes, dismissing her with the wave of my hand. “Ah, whatever. The fuck do you know?”

She didn't say anything, just stared at me menacingly while I nonchalantly chugged down more of my drink. Normani was amused by our bickering, like always, but stifled her laughter. I rested my arms on the bar by her, flashing a quick smile, the coldness of the bottle in my hand giving me chills. My body high was intensifying.

“Glad that skank's gone,” Dinah said out of the blue, challenging me.

I didn't take the bait. Why should I take up for Sadie? Sure, she was truly a good person and she cared about me, but showing Dinah that I cared would be a sign of weakness. I had way too much pride for that.

“Sadie?” Normani questioned, her voice laced with incredulity. “What do you have against that chick?”

A quick and loud rush of breath emitted through Dinah's lips and she laughed dryly as she shook her head in disbelief. “You mean you don't know? Lauren is fucking her. She thinks she's so smooth, trying to convince us that that girl is just her friend. I see right through it. Camila sees right through it. Yet she wonders why Camila's not talking to her.”

My lips pursed as a way for me to keep from laughing. I pointed at Dinah from across to room, but the urge to laugh got the better of me. I erupted with laughter, soon too weak to even keep my arm up and just fell face first over the counter. Dinah was testing me for some reason tonight. She'd been bitter since the break up with Siope, occasionally losing her cool and taking it out on me.

Any other time it was rage-inducing, but I always managed to keep it under control. Tonight, it was just hysterical. And I didn't know why. Here she was, accusing me of sleeping with a friend in front of Normani, also bringing Camila into it. _Oh boy, she better be glad I'm fucked on anti-anxiety medication._

Fingering Sadie in the backseat of my jeep outside her house while her parents and siblings were in there enjoying their family movie night just so she'd sneak into her parents' bedroom to get me pills was the farthest I'd gone with her. And it wasn't getting any further than that because she felt guilty about it. Also, we had an agreement. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to touch her again. Tonight I know I fondled her thigh, but that was brief and I was caught up in the moment, and it was before I accepted the fact that I wasn't going to be getting what I wanted.

_In other words, there was nothing going on between Sadie and I. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again._

“She's high on something,” said Dinah.

“How do you know?”

Dinah gave Normani a pointed look.

“Yeah, Dinah,” I blurted out condescendingly. “How _do_ you know?”

Without a word, she stood from the dining table with her bowl of Ramen in hand and headed for her room.

“For the record, I'm not sleeping with Sadie. Sadie wishes I was sleeping with her, I'm sure of that, but I'm not.”

The only response I receieved was the sound of the door slamming. I licked my lips, massaging the bridge of my nose. Laughter was coming out of my mouth before I even realized it. Laughter that was dry of emotion. Laughter that sounded like a cry for help rather than a cry of joy.

“What the hell is going on in this house?” Normani said, sounding as if she was afraid to ask.

She wasn't afraid to ask. In all actuality, she was afraid to hear the answer. I slowly turned my head to look her in the eyes. I knew it seemed so pointless to acknowledge now, but she was so beautiful. All of my friends were so beautiful and she had it all together. Normani was smart, had a boring job where she connected with kids, a healthy mindset, had common fucking sense. I admired that. Hell, part of me even envied that. But I just stared, and for a mere second I wanted to break down and tell her everything, tell her how I was feeling, what I wasn't feeling but should be, how I was so taken by Camila.

Normani didn't need to hear all of that though. She was one of my best friends, but even if I divulged all of that, even if I poured my heart out, she wouldn't understand. And I figured she wouldn't fully care. I knew of only one other person in the world right now who would just maybe give one fuck about how my mind was fairing.

That person was Camz. She always was concerned about what was going on up there.

“I've lost myself all over again. I just need to find Lauren Jauregui again. Then, maybe just then, I'll be all right. This house will be all right.”

Normani studied me, completely lost. She soon nodded as if she could finally now somewhat comprehend, but I knew she couldn't. Who would understand some kind of ridiculously vague answer like that?

She approached me, grabbing my shoulders and bringing me closer. Remember when I said I just wanted to be held, be touched, comforted? Just the warmth of her hands on me through the fabric of my shirt made me smile. A bout of euphoria hit me again, goosebumps rising all over my skin.

“You are okay though, right?”

I nodded like, a thousand times, and apparently I answered too fast because she didn't look like she believed me. But for the most part, I wasn't telling a fib. In this moment right now, I felt whole. I felt _something_. Something good. Sweet indifference. Sweet euphoria. Sweet chills.

“I'm fine, Normani. I'm glad I got to see you today. I really did miss you,” I assured, wearing a smirk.

“That damn smirk and your honeyed words could turn the straightest girl absolutely gay.”

My smirk deepened and I averted my gaze, too flattered to look her in the eyes. I didn't want to start blushing now. Chuckling down at the floor I just gave my head a shake.

“Why do you mention that? Are you finally giving in after all these years?”

Normani snickered. “You wish.” She drew back, went over to grab her things from the dining table and advanced across the room for the door.

I drank the rest of my root beer, my eyes glued to her backside. _Indeed I do._

“Nice buns in that dress,” I deadpanned. “Bet your every kid's favorite teacher. You probably make History worthwhile.”

“You're outrageous. Nice seeing you, idiot. Have a good night.”

“You too, Ms. Hamilton.”

She left out. I locked the door behind her and looked down the hall at Camila's door again. I could hear Freya in there giggling, Camila's soft talking. Her voice was nothing but a murmur from where I was standing, but it was still so soothing.

I ran Freya a bubble bath before going down the hall. I knew I needed to talk with Camila as soon as possible now, but I didn't think tonight was a good time with me being high and all tired. Perhaps I wouldn't remember a thing I said in the morning.

Opening the door further, I stepped in to see Camila drawing something on the back of Freya's hand. Freya looked up at the sound of the door creaking, her face lighting up.

“Aunt Lauren, Mila is drawing a butterfly on my hand in marker! She drew a flower on this one. Look!” She held up her hand and I came in to get a closer look.

I glanced at it for a split second and said, “That looks cool. Very neat-o.”

Out the corner of my eye I saw Camila look at me briefly, then back down to the butterfly she was finishing up. I neared the bed hesitantly, my fingers linked behind my back.

“I've got your bath running, kiddo. Also laid out your pajamas, like usual.”

“But I just got a tattoo. It's going to come off,” she whined.

“Avoid washing the backs of your hands. I don't know, do what you gotta do.”

Freya scurried out of the room, leaving just the two of us. Camila and I. The flowers I bought her were laying on her dresser at my side. She acted like my presence wasn't important to her, not even acknowledging me as she gathered Freya's homework and school books from the bed and put them in her backpack.

“Who bought you these beautiful flowers?” I asked, studying them.

Her and I met eyes at once.

“You and I both know who did,” she responded tersely. I got the feeling that she didn't want to be bothered, but that was no surprise because this was the attitude I got every time when I tried talking to her.

I just stood there, my mouth twisting into a smirk while I fondly watched her move about the room. She grabbed a book from her nightstand once she was done tidying up, plopped back down on her bed. I was distracted by her legs and the smell in the air and how cute she looked when she was displeased with me.

“What do you want? I'm reading.”

I gulped, shifting in place uneasily. “I want to talk, I think.”

Her lips slightly parted, and that all too familiar look in her eyes; I was hypnotized. She had me in her gravitational pull again.

“You think?”

“Yeah,” I breathed shakily, linking my hands at the back of my neck. “I want to be close to you and just talk, or not talk. We could sit in silence. I don't care. I just wanna be close. Please.”

Camila gazed at me for a long time, tugging at her bottom lip between her teeth. Uncertainty dwelled in her eyes. She put her book to the side and brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. I grabbed a daisy from the bouquet of flowers, broke the stem to make it shorter. I carefully sat next to her on the bed.

Staring at her profile in desperation, I waited and waited. Then finally, she lifted her arm and put it around the back of my neck, bringing me against her chest. I felt so at home, like this was where I belonged. The feeling in my chest was so overwhelming, so intense, so real.

I buried my face in her neck, nuzzling my nose upon her skin and inhaling her scent. Cinnamon. Sweet cinnamon. Camila pressed her face to mine. My fingers sifted through her hair and my other hand occupied with stroking the petals of a daisy across her legs and thighs and arms.

“I want this to work,” I murmured, half asleep, my lips grazing her neck. “I want _us_ to happen.”


	17. lay your head on my beating heart

_ “What do you want? I'm reading.” _

_ I gulped, shifting in place uneasily. “I want to talk, I think.” _

_ Her lips slightly parted, and that all too familiar look in her eyes; I was hypnotized. She had me in her gravitational pull again. _

_ “You think?” _

_ “Yeah,” I breathed shakily, linking my hands at the back of my neck. “I want to be close to you and just talk, or not talk. We could sit in silence. I don't care. I just wanna be close. Please.” _

_ Camila gazed at me for a long time, tugging at her bottom lip between her teeth. Uncertainty dwelled in her eyes. She put her book to the side and brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. I grabbed a daisy from the bouquet of flowers, broke the stem to make it shorter. I carefully sat next to her on the bed. _

_ Staring at her profile in desperation, I waited and waited. Then finally, she lifted her arm and put it around the back of my neck, bringing me against her chest. I felt so at home, like this was where I belonged. The feeling in my chest was so overwhelming, so intense, so real. _

_ I buried my face in her neck, nuzzling my nose upon her skin and inhaling her scent. Cinnamon. Sweet cinnamon. Camila pressed her face to mine. My fingers sifted through her hair and my other hand occupied with stroking the petals of a daisy across her legs and thighs and arms. _

_ “I want this to work,” I murmured, half asleep, my lips grazing her neck. “I want  us  to happen.” _

 

Camila had her eyes set on the ceiling and her hand caressing through my hair. She didn't even seem to acknowledge anything I'd said, so I lifted my head, studying the dull and immovable expression upon her face. My lips were parted. I stared until she finally met my gaze, only momentarily though. The flower clutched in between my two fingers made its way up to her nose. This didn't seem like the right moment, but I wanted to see her smile. Just the faintest one, it didn't matter.

She was warm, and it felt good to be this close to someone I felt so profoundly for, someone I thought so much of. I would have sat there all night in silence if that's what she wanted. It seemed like that's what Camz wanted. She didn't say anything in response to me making it clear that I wanted her to be mine – that I needed it. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe she was still too angry to do anything other than just hold me.

At least she was holding me. I needed to be held. I needed to be cradled like a child. For my mind was in a fragile state, but I couldn't harbor a care in the world. Nothing mattered in these moments, and I was certain that even if I weren't under the influence, my emotional status wouldn't have wavered.

Camila could make me feel high all by herself. All mellowed out like I'm on cloud nine.

“You seem tired,” she muttered, looking over at me. “You should get some sleep. I'll put Freya to bed.”

I began rising, readying to get off the bed, but Camila placed her hand on my shoulder to keep me from advancing. “You can sleep in here, if you want. You just look really tired... Did you take anything?”

She laid back down onto the pillows right along with me as I fell back drowsily. I covered my face with my hands, yawning and stretching next to her.

“Lauren?” Her head propped in the palm of her hand, she was watching me with a familiar intensity. She shook me a little to get me to snap out of the quick daze I'd fallen in momentarily.

Glancing over at her again, lost, I said, “What was that?”

“Did you take anything?”

I smiled as a sudden warmth came over me. It was amazing how she could maintain such patience with someone like me. “Valium.”

I heard a small sigh. “How much?”

“Just enough to get me fucked.” I erupted with giggles.

Camila placed a blanket over me, laughing along just for my sake. I could tell she didn't think this was funny at all, but figured laughing was the only way she could manage to react at the moment.

“You don't want to talk about things?” I asked as she was going for the door.

She hesitated. “Not right now. You need to sleep it off, okay?”

“Are you going to sleep in here with me? Waking up next to you, your face the first thing I see to remind me of why I even wanted this day to happen would be pure bliss.”

“I might as well,” she said, the smile in her voice evident.

That made me grin with my face buried in a pillow. The light went out. I was laying in an awkward position, my body sprawled out all over the middle of the bed. And that's how I fell asleep.

* * *

I wasn't used to waking up in Camila's bed so the second I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings, I slid off and fell on the floor like a klutz. The curtains were closed and the room was warm and dark. I couldn't remember anything for the time being. Everything was slightly hazy. Bits and pieces were only clear to me.

 _Had I gotten drunk again?_ I wondered as I stood to my feet, a little disoriented. _Couldn't have. I don't remember the last time I bought booze._

_Then again, what do I remember?_

“Well, whatever the fuck I did last night made me sleep like a log, that's for sure,” I mumbled and untangled my limbs in the sleeves of my shirt, snatching it off over my head.

It was hot. All of my clothes were still on when I awakened, so I presumed nothing outrageously weird happened between Camz and I in her bedroom. When I stumbled into the kitchen area, I found a slip of paper waiting for me on the counter.

_“Laur, I took care of everything this morning. Freya is at school with her lunch packed and her homework all done, so don't worry. I tried to wake you up, but you were out like a baby. Must be good to sleep that well, huh? I remember one time I asked you why you took pills and you told me it was like a double win. They get you high when you're awake and then you're knocked out, a million miles away from reality. You said they make you sleep so good that you sometimes feel that you forget you even exist within the night. You're an idiot by the way, and you were stoned when you said that. You make me so fucking livid with you at times, and you disappoint me often too, but you've got a way with me. I hate to admit it, but you do. You're immature and an idiot, but I like you. You have your flaws, we all do, I'm aware of that. I see great things in you. I don't just see the bad. I wish you could see them as well. I'm crazy about you, Laur... You wanted to talk last night, but I didn't think that was a good idea because you were so out of it, so tonight I'm finally going to listen. I'm going to give you a chance, because let's face it, how I could I not? But if I can see right then and there that whatever you're saying is bullshit like last time, then I don't see how I could ever trust you enough to be with you in the way I'd like... See you later.”_

Below the paragraph were a few hearts she'd taken the time to draw. They were neat, just like her handwriting. Handwritten notes. They were so old-fashioned, but in all honesty I found that the content written in them usually seemed a lot more sincere than if it were in the form of a text.

A thought popped into my head that sounded familiar. _She likes the real you._ I fell into a bar stool, a smile finding its way across my lips.

Camila was giving me a chance. She wanted to be with me, in an official way. Whatever I'd say to her tonight would have an effect on whether or not she thought she could trust me. Trust. That's the key to everything official, serious, anything involving committment. I needed Camila to trust me.

According to the time on my microwave, it was noon. I patted my pockets in search for my cell, finding it instantly. I tossed my shirt in hand to the side and collapsed on the couch with my eyes glued to all the notifications on my phone. Couple missed calls from Sadie and some clients who would be pissed if I didn't call back soon. Two texts, one from Sadie, the other from Camila; both asking the same thing.

_You okay?_

One of the clients called me back right then. The phone call was disasterous, because I had to keep racking my brain to remember simple things that happened at an event only a couple of days ago. I was able to recollect most things, but it was the little details that lost me the most.

It would wear off soon, I wasn't too worried.

I fixed up a sandwich before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. After that, I headed to the florist and decided to pick out a dozen red roses for the girl I was falling for. Life seemed good on the ride to the library. Cruising through town with the wind in my hair, the sun shining down on me, a dozen roses in the passenger seat.

Camila wouldn't be expecting me, which made this even more exciting. I imagined how things would go once I sauntered through the library doors with flowers in hand, eyes trained on the only one that matters.

I walked in after some guy who was polite enough to hold the door for me. Camila wasn't in sight so I slowly approached the front desk. I felt a little nervous all of the sudden.

A girl who appeared to be about my age looked up from the book she was reading, eventually sitting it aside. She gave me a swift up and down examination, a frivolous glint in her eyes now. I watched her tentatively, not exactly sure what to say as she silently judged me.

There wasn't anyone else at the front desk. I glanced all around the library once again, doing a full 360 spin. Still no sight of Camz.

“Ooh,” the lady exclaimed, catching my attention. “Those for me?”

We locked eyes. Her brows lifted in curiosity; I just smiled, chuckling inwardly. “I'm looking for Camila Cabello,” I said finally.

“You know Mila?”

“Um, yeah. She's my roommate.”

She pulled a surprised expression, as if she was blown away. She backed up in her chair with a squeak of the wheels, seeming to give me a closer look.

“So, you're Lauren? I thought you looked familiar."

With my lips pressed together, I smiled sheepishly. “I am. Now that I'm aware you know my name, I kind of need to know who you are.”

The girl extended her hand, a silly grin coming across her face. “Marielle. A friend of Camila's.” Her grin deepened. “Best friend.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you.”

Camila never mentioned her. Actually, Camila never mentioned any of her friends. _Or maybe she had, and I just wasn't listening. That sounds very likely. Shit._

Marielle nodded knowingly, stood from her chair and disappeared into a back room. Splaying my palms on the counter, I took a deep breath. Camila emerged, looking surprised and somewhat embarrassed.

I smiled. “Hey, Camz. Thought I'd stop by to drop you something off, maybe even take you out on your lunch break.”

She eased around the desk to my side, her lips pursed and her cheeks rosy. “You got me flowers yesterday,” she chided softly, grabbing my arm and pulling me off to the side.

Marielle was watching us, which made me slightly uncomfortable. I glanced her way then back at Camila, taking in a deep breath, the bouquet of flowers drooping down at my side.

“So what? I'll buy you flowers every day of my life if it'll put that look on your face each time,” I said.

She made an odd noise in annoyance, but I knew she wasn't really annoyed. She clutched the collar of my shirt, burying her reddening face in my chest.

“I can't believe you.” Camila drew back and I lifted the flowers, displaying a wary half smile. She retrieved them, admiring all dozen roses and taking in a few whiffs.

“Is it okay for me to be here like this? Interrupting your work?”

Her mouth curved in amusement as she looked up at me. There was a sparkle in her eyes that made me feel all warm inside. She rolled her eyes and said, “You're not interrupting a damn thing.”

She hugged me from the side. I threw my arm around the back of her neck, bringing her into me. My lips brushed across her forehead, and I kissed her temple briefly.

“Shouldn't you introduce me to Marielle?” I asked quietly, flicking my head in the direction of the girl who claimed to be her best friend.

Camila snapped out of it and looked around until she spotted Marielle. Her eyes lit up as if she'd just remembered that the girl existed in the first place. It was nice to know I had that effect on her.

“Oh. Yeah, I'm sorry.” She dragged me over to the front desk. “Marielle, this is Lauren, the roommate I told you about a few times.”

“More like a thousand times,” Marielle said under her breath, and then smiled innocently at us both.

“Lauren, this is my friend Marielle I was telling you about. She was on a trip overseas, but now she's finally back.” Camila laughed.

I nodded. _Okay, so she definitely mentioned Marielle before._

“Italy, by the way. I was in Italy,” she added.

“Nice. What part?”

“Venice.”

“That sounds ideal. How was it over there?”

Marielle seemed delighted by my interest in her travels. “Oh, it was beautiful,” she gushed. “I took several pictures. At night it is just wonderful. Feels so magical going through the canals at night with all the lights. I was telling Mila about it a couple of weeks ago. I like traveling alone, but a place as beautiful as Venice, it almost feels unfair and selfish enjoying it on your own, you know? Not sharing the experience with someone else. I left three months ago, invited Mila but she refused to come.”

Camila sighed quietly. I nudged her with my elbow to get her attention, smirking.

“Why would you turn down something like that?” I questioned.

“Marielle knows I don't have enough money for that kind of thing.”

“I offered to pay half of the expenses,” Marielle singsonged.

“I couldn't do that.”

“I could afford that, I think,” I blurted out. “Would you like to go to Venice someday? Because I would.”

Camila tilted her head to the side, giving me a look. “Don't be ridiculous, Laur.”

“I really could though. You heard her, the place is beautiful. You like beautiful things, don't you?” A impishly charming grin came across my features. “I know I do.”

She slammed her palm into my face and stepped past me, making her way around the front desk. Marielle was laughing and pointing at me as if to mockingly say _aren't you smooth._ I shook my head, abashed. A little girl and her mother were coming for the desk to check out a book so I moved out of the way.

That stunt Camila just pulled reminded me of how I was still somewhat on her bad side. I'd almost forgotten about all of the hostile silence between us on her part for the past three weeks. She wouldn't snub me in front of Marielle though. Not like she'd done before.

“You know, Lauren, I've been hearing a lot about you through phone calls,” said Marielle.

Camila, whom was busy checking out books, cut her eye over at her friend momentarily.

I just nodded, not exactly sure what to say. Camila seemed disgruntled at the moment and I didn't want to say something that would make matters worse. I was already on thin ice. 

So I let the silence prolong.

“You're the roommate that Camila here just adores. It's not difficult to see why.”

When Camila was done tending to the people at the desk she looked over at Marielle, then to me with a sweet smile. “Yeah, I told Marielle a bit about you. That I'd moved in with someone, of course.”

Marielle smirked slyly, raising her eyebrows.

“You want to go out, for your lunch break?” I asked Camila, leaning over the counter to look her in the eye.

We were face to face, and all of the sudden she just seemingly froze. I moistened my lips, mindlessly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Marielle and I were actually going to go out and catch up a little,” Camila informed, our gazes clinging.

There was some tension between us that sparked up out of nowhere. I could sense it; in the tentativeness of her voice, and in the softening of her eyes. It was there in the pit of my stomach – a queasy feeling I couldn't shake. The butterflies were rioting again.

I didn't like the bad news I was hearing, so I continued to stare. With my head cocked to the side a little, my brows furrowed, I gave her a look that I hoped would change her mind.

“Well,” I breathed, looking off pitifully. “You haven't seen her in three months. You want to catch up, I understand that.”

Camila caught onto my jive. “Lauren, why are you doing this?”

I fought a grin and feigned confusion.

“Actually, I'd like to get to know the girl you've been talking about ever since you met her,” Marielle chimed in. “I think you joining us would be a grand idea, Lauren.”

She and Camila exchanged a look. Marielle wiggled her brows playfully, that same frivolous gleam in her brown orbs from before. I looked to Camila for confirmation. She merely hunched her shoulders.

“I guess we could do that.”

* * *

We were at Subway seated in a booth and Marielle was chattering away about Venice; which was interesting for the first fifteen minutes or so on the car ride over but now I was getting flustered.

Camila and I were sitting opposite of her. I couldn't tell what she was thinking but she seemed to be fully invested in the conversation while my main focus at the time was the footlong sitting on the table before me.

Maybe I should have let them go out on their own. At least that would have spared me this hour of nonstop discussion about some old guy she drifted along the canals of Venice with.

Despite the fact that Marielle was including me in the conversation, I felt something like a third wheel. Every now and then she would give me eye contact and I would simply nod and laugh a little as if I knew what the hell was even going on.

The booth became crowded and I felt closed in, so I lifted my arm and rested it on the back of the chair behind Camila's back. Things grew silent. I continued to scarf down my bag of chips until the air got a little awkward. I looked around stupidly, licking the salt from my lips.

Camila glanced at me, then down at the lack of space between us. I shifted, matching her smile.

"I needed some place to put my arm. You were squashing me in this corner," I explained warily.

"That's fine. You have a chip crumb right there..." She reached out but I moved my head and got it off myself.

"Nah, Camz. That's embarrassing." I grimaced.

Camila grinned teasingly and gave my shoulder a shove with her elbow.

"So Lauren," Marielle said loudly, sure to catch my attention. "I hear you're this awesome big shot photographer."

I chuckled, and around a mouthful of chips, I said, "Yeah, something like that."

"No, seriously. LJ Photography. I checked out your website and instagram. You're pretty awesome. I dabble with photography myself."

"You do?"

"Yeah. That's mainly why I travel. Love to capture the beauties of the world." She pulled this big grin that looked kind of goofy.

Her vibe was kind of contagious.

Marielle seemed like the perfect fit for someone like Camz. She was deep, and intellectual and had this way of keeping you hooked on her every word, even if you didn't want to listen. 

Marielle excused herself to the restroom, which left me alone with Camila. I could feel the weight of her gaze on me the moment Marielle left. I met her eyes, lifting my brows in curiosity.

She studied me a little longer and grinned down at her lap. "You're always wearing a flannel," Camila noted, nervously rubbing her wrists. "Or a choker, and all of those bracelets, and that stupid half-smile."

My finger found itself on her chin and before I knew it, I was turning her face to look at me.

"And?" I asked, perfecting that stupid half-smile she spoke of.

"You're irresistible. I'm so drawn to you..." Camila trailed off. "But I don't want to be. You know how frustrating that is?"

I was disheartened. But then again, I should have saw that coming. Hell, I didn't even want her to be. I was so afraid I'd end up hurting her. Apparently she harbored the same fear somewhere deep down.

"Why?" I murmured, looking off at the cars whizzing past out the window. "You know, there's nothing going on between -"

"I don't want to hear about Sadie," she interjected, looking just as downcast as I must have at the minute.

My jaw clenched as her eyes clung to mine. I had nothing. There was nothing I could think of to say. So I stared out the window. Her head was tucked underneath my chin. She had scooted a little closer. It felt nice, having her cuddled up against me in spite of awkward discussion we were having.

We let the silence consume us. I took the time to gather my thoughts but nothing useful came from that. Not for a while.

"I read the note you left me on the counter," I said barely above a whisper. "I want to be with you, and I want to make you happy. I want to just..." I suddenly paused with my mouth agape, and Camila looked up to see if I'd continue. "I can't quite put it into words, but dammit, what I feel is strong and it's scary, but I don't care. I want this. I want to dive into this headlong, because anything with you can't be that bad. You make things easier to bear. Don't know what I'd do without you."

Just then, my phone went off. It was sitting on the table. The screen lit up with Sadie's name and picture on it. We both looked at it for a long time, and I was afraid to move. She nonchalantly fingered a button on my shirt and sighed.

"You going to answer that?"

I cupped my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze. "What we're discussing is more important."

Camila huffed. "Just go ahead. I know you want to answer it. She's your friend, right?"

"Yeah, but..." I reached out and slammed my finger on the ignore option. "Listen, that night I came home with all that lipstick on me and shit, I was drunk. It was a crazy night. She and I made out once before that, which was before I knew you had a thing for me -"

"Lauren."

"I'm just trying to explain what the fuck when on that night, alright? You not wanting to hear what I have to say is bullshit!" I snapped.

A feeling of remorse instantly engulfed me. I pressed my lips together to keep myself from saying anything else.

My blood was boiling. I felt like I was on fire. Camila maintained her composure, although she knew very well how quickly I could lose my cool.

"I am listening," she insisted, shaking her head in disgust as she removed herself from my arms. "It's not just the fact that it happened, Lauren. It's the fact that you lied to my face when I asked about you and her. That's what hurt me. I don't want hear what happened that night. I don't want to hear the excuse 'I was drunk'. I want to know how could you lie to me that easily, but right now, I don't want to discuss this because Marielle will be back soon. I was trying to ease the tension here, but you just had to bring it up. Can't you see that this isn't an appropriate time?”

I glanced around, catching sight of Marielle exiting the restroom. "I'm gonna wait out in the car. I've already finished, so let me out, please."

Camila looked frustrated. We weren't even official yet and we were already having issues. Maybe that's a bad sign. She scooted out of the booth to let me out and I darted past Marielle on my way out the door.

The car was silent, which only made me reflect on what had just transpired. I'd probably made myself look like an asshole in front of Marielle, pushing past her like that without an apology. Now I'd have to drive them back to the library.

Great.

Honestly, I didn't want to talk things out with Camila. That didn't seem to have any effect. We haven't progressed here at all. Honestly, I just wanted to kiss her and see where it went from there. I wanted to lay in a dark room in silence, just holding her close to me, her body keeping me warm.

To me, that seemed like the best way to mend anything slightly broken.

I wasn't all too great with words like she was.

 

I jolted out of dreamland at the sound of knocking. Looking to my left, I saw Camila standing outside the window, Marielle a couple of feet away. I straightened up and unlocked the car so they could get in.

As soon as Marielle loaded into the backseat she said, “Are you okay, Lauren? Mila said you weren't feeling well.”

I forced a smile as I glanced at her in the rear view mirror. “I'm good.”

The ride back to the library was pretty smooth. I turned up some tunes and kept my mind solely on driving. It felt as if I were the only one in the car. It would have been better that way.

In the parking lot, after Marielle had gotten out of the car, Camila stayed put. “We'll talk when I get home, okay? I really want to listen to what you have to say, Lauren. I really do.”

My gaze was glued to some bushes off in the distance. “Okay,” I said simply.

“Can you look at me?” she asked, a desperation in her voice that made my stomach flip.

I looked her way, swallowing hard once I caught sight of those wide chocolate pools filled with worry.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I just lost my temper back there and needed to get away. To clear my head.”

Camila searched my eyes. At first her expression was unreadable, but then I saw a little twitch at the corners of her lips. Her mouth soon curved in that cute way it always did to form a smile. She was so beautiful. Genuinely. There wasn't any make up on her face today, and I figured by the time she was done getting Freya ready this morning she was too worn out to care.

I reached out before I could stop myself, placing my hand on the side of her neck, grazing her cheek with my thumb. Suddenly she adapted a look of apprehension, shock, like she'd just had all of the air taken from her lungs. We just gazed, and I suppose she was waiting for me to actually lean in... I didn't know what my intentions were.

My eyes fell to my lap, as did my hand. I bit my lower lip, chuckling quietly to ease the awkwardness. “Guess I'll see you later, Camz,” I muttered.

She nodded and gave me a sheepish smile. Then she was climbing out of the jeep, sashaying toward the entrance of the library. I pounded the steering wheel with my fist one good time, and then cursed loudly because it hurt like a bitch.

For the rest of the day, time flashed before my eyes, which was a good thing because I couldn't wait to see Camila again. I'd just gotten home from picking up Freya and we were playing the Wii that Sadie let us borrow. I would have invested in one of these things a long time ago if I knew how cool they were.

It was fun playing with Freya, especially Mario Kart. Sometimes I'd let her win and she'd get all mopey and upset because she felt like it was mean on her part to win. It was adorable to me.

“Princess is my favorite character,” said Freya. “Wanna know why?”

“Yeah?” I said, and sprayed Reddi-wip into my mouth.

“Because I'm a princess.”

I looked at her wildly. “Are you shitting me? You're Princess Freya? How could I have not known that my very own niece is the one and only beautiful and elegant princess of Miami?”

Freya giggled uncontrollably. I tossed my steering wheel to the side, got down on the floor and started bowing.

“What are you doing?” She chirped.

“Princess Freya, oh, my fair young lady, would you like some Reddi-wip?” I exclaimed, doing my best British accent.

She blushed, getting a total kick out of this. I sprayed some on her nose and smeared it in with my hand, and as she stood there in shock, still giggling, I threw her over my shoulder and whirled around in circles. Laughter filled the apartment. There was so much energy, so much joy that I felt as if my chest would burst.

Then, there was a knock at the door. I spun Freya around a few times before putting her down, and she ended up stumbling. She was grinning like no tomorrow, looking like a total moron with that whipped cream on her face. An adorable moron. My little moron.

“Princess Freya, I must answer the door!” I was out of breath.

I struggled to keep my balance as I went for the door, feeling all woozy and wobbly. I fell against the door frame to keep myself up and pulled the door open. It was Sadie. I jutted my chin up at her, smiling wryly. She pushed past me and invited herself in, as usual.

“I was trying to get in contact with you earlier to tell you about the casting call, but you wouldn't answer your phone.” Sadie rolled her eyes and wearily flopped down on the couch beside Freya. “Hey Freya,” she said, her voice going gentler. “How ya been? Got a little somethin' on your nose.”

Freya rubbed some whipped cream off her nose with her finger and licked it. “It's Reddi-wip!” she beamed. “And it's Princess Freya by the way, okay?”

I snorted. Can you believe this kid? Sadie glanced back at me with squinted eyes.

“You heard the princess,” I said nonchalanlty, throwing my hands up. “By the way, I totally forgot about that casting call. How did it go anyways? Did you wow them with your breathtaking beauty?”

“Are you being sarcastic? With you I can never tell.”

“No. I'm being serious. What happened? I'm anxious to know.”

Sadie kind of winced and hesitated. “I'm not sure. I feel like they liked me and I felt like things went smoothly but I don't know. They're going to be calling within the next week.”

“Hey, that's great,” I said, outstretching my arms.

Sadie stood and fell against me, exhausted.

“Don't sweat it. I know you did amazing. They loved you, champ.”

“Yeah. Well, we'll see.” She drew back to look at me, and smiled cutely. “Also, they asked me who shot the photos and I proudly told them _the_ Lauren Jauregui herself did. One lady even knew who you were.”

My eyebrows shot up. “That's pretty awesome. Wow.”

Her smile grew wider. “Yeah, it is. What's up today? Wanna go do something?”

“Like what?”

“I don't know.” Sadie pondered, her finger on her chin. “Let's go down to the beach or something. Did I tell you my parents are thinking about getting a beach house down in the Keys?”

She had her fingers curled up in my shirt and was practically clinging to me. I placed my hands over her wrists and put some distance between us.

“Sounds pretty damn sweet. I've always wanted a house right on the beach.”

“Exactly, me too. So, what do you say? Wanna go out? You, me and Freya?”

I looked at the hopeful look upon Sadie's face, sulking. “Can't. I've got plans later on once Camila gets home.”

“Oh.” Sadie's gaze lowered for a moment, her lip quivering. But she quickly regained her perkiness, acting as she'd never even heard the bad news. “Well, tomorrow, I have a surprise for you.”

She swayed backward, making her way toward the door, and I followed.

“A surprise?” I asked, grinning.

“Yeah, you'll see. I'll pick you up at ten.”

“Wow. You're picking _me_ up? That's...different.”

Sadie frowned and told me to shut up. I smiled charmingly and watched from the door as she left. For the rest of the night, she was out of my hair.

“Aunt Lauren,” Freya called from the sofa.

“Hmm?” I advanced across the room and plopped down next to her.

She hesitated a moment, fighting back a smile. “Do you like Sadie?”

I averted my eyes to the coffee table, and I thought.

Freya broke out in giggles. “Why does your face look like that?”

It was then that I realized my expression was all screwed up into a painful grimace. “Because that's gross. Sadie's gross. Very icky.” I gagged to add emphasis.

“I'm gonna tell her you said that!”

“Not if I tickle you to death!” I growled, diving forward to attack her with tickles.

“Stop it! Stop it!” she pleaded through high pitched laughter.

When I finally ceased, she jumped on top of me and suddenly became the tickle monster. I just laid there until she decided to give up, continuously telling her that it wouldn't work because I'm not ticklish. That's bullshit though; I'm pretty sure my face was turning crimson from holding in the laughter.

She curled up in my lap with her head tucked under my chin and her arms wrapped lightly around my neck. I turned on some cartoons. Freya watched them silently, occasionally giggling whenever something funny happened. The hype was dying down and it was a little too early for bed time, but I thought to myself _hey, what the hell?_

“I think you should like Camila,” Freya said out of the blue. “Do you think she's icky too?”

All I could do was smile. She was already so open-minded at a young age; she didn't see a thing wrong with me liking another female. Chris and Scarlett taught her well. They taught her to be respectful, and not quick to judge. I thank them for that.

“No,” I said simply. “I don't think she's icky. She's beautiful.”

Freya's eyes lit up. “Yeah. I hope you like her and she likes you too so you can be together like my mommy and daddy.”

“You would like that?”

She nodded. I looked off at the television, but I wasn't really watching it. Just staring, lost in reflection. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through Freya's hair.

“Well, if I can make her happy then maybe that'll happen,” I mused.

Freya watched me for a long time and then asked, “Do you like boys?”

I looked down at her, a crease in my forehead. “Not really.”

“I do,” she said casually. “I have a friend, his name is Jared and he plays with me every day on the playground, and he makes sure the bad kids don't get to me. He's kinda pretty but sometimes he picks his nose.”

I somehow laughed through a sigh, shaking my head down at a flushed-face, grinning Freya. “You're a mess, kid. Anyway, he sounds like a good friend. Don't let him go. Who knows? Maybe one day he'll grow out of eating his boogers and be this handsome knight in shining armor, perfect for someone like you.”

“Oh, he doesn't eat them. He flicks them at the mean kids who bother us.”

My stomach griped as my head cocked to the side. “Okay, now you're just grossing me out.”

Freya giggled impishly. Her grip around my neck tightened and she cuddled closer, holding me so I wouldn't get away. She always had this fear that I would leave her, but we were working on it. At least now she'd sleep in a room by herself, only if I sung to her first.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep, and I was going in and out of a dream-like state myself until Camila finally got home. She looked exhausted as she stepped through the front door, dropping all of her things right then and there. Marielle had probably worn her out.

I carefully got up without waking Freya. I placed her on the couch gingerly. She squirmed and fidgeted around in her sleep until she was comfortably in a fetal position. I put her favorite blanket on top of her, kissed her forehead and stood over her a while longer as she snoozed.

She was such a little angel.

Camila was watching me with an intrigued look in her eyes, as if she was in awe. I'd almost forgotten she was here. When I looked over at the door, there she was frozen in place, wearing the faintest smile.

“What is it?” I questioned, confused.

“You're so good with her,” she whispered. “It's beautiful, kind of. She's lucky to have you.”

I glanced down at Freya briefly, stepping over some pillows to break the distance between Camila and I. “Nah. I think it's the other way around. I'm lucky to have her.”

She cupped my face in her hands once I was close enough. “You're so sweet. Remember when I told you that your personality is golden?”

Smiling wryly, I rolled my eyes and said, “Yeah, I think I do.”

“I know you do!” Camila smiled, and it made my heart leap.

My heart, it was pounding. Her breath smelled of peppermint and coffee, and somewhere in this whirlwind of scents was a familiar hint of cinnamon. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against hers and bringing her close. Her warmth and my warmth coalesced, forming a fire.

“I'm sorry for being an ass today by the way,” I said sheepishly.

Camila drew back to look at my face. She caressed my cheek, speaking softly to me with her eyes. Her eyes said everything, and that's why I wasn't surprised when she leaned in and kissed me. The tentativeness of her kiss drove me insane, and I just needed more.

My lungs hurt, and for some time, as our mouths sucked in one another's face, I couldn't breathe.

She took my breath away. In a moment where I felt like all of the air had been taken from my lungs, I felt so alive. I felt like I was on fire, burning with desire and lust, but I knew it wasn't the casual lust I was used to feeling. No, this was different. This was something out of the ordinary, not some silly little feeling you can just get from contact with any other ordinary person.

This was the feeling Camila Cabello gave me, the feeling of pure desire she ignited deep in my bones. This was the feeling no one else could induce. And even if they could, I wouldn't want them to. I only wanted her.

Camila hoisted my waist and snaked her legs around it, clinging to me for dear life. I managed to get us out of there, and down the hall and into her bedroom with the door locked and shut.

It was all happening so fast, yet in my mind I had everything going in slow motion. She had me restrained underneath her on the bed. She was straddling my waist, kissing me in desperation, as if time would run out soon. I made the camisole she was wearing get lost and rose to kiss her neck.

Her chest caved and her breathing faltered as the kisses deepened, and the latching of my lips on her skin hurt just a little too good. It all seemed so surreal until a moan slipped out into the air. I stopped suddenly.

She met my eyes. Her lips quivered, and she breathed heavily, her face only inches away from mine. My hands rested on her hips firmly. I gave her a questioning look, patiently waiting for her consent. Camila hesitated, and then nodded with certainty.

She pulled did away with my top. I undid her bra and repositioned us so that she was on her back with me hovering over her. The rest of our clothing came off in a hurry and we kissed for the longest, feeling the shape of each other's body, getting familiar with it; all of the curves and sensitive areas.

I felt safe in her arms, with her bare body up against mine. I kissed my way down her waist, inching lower and lower. Our fingers were linked together and I could feel her shaking with anticipation.

Things escalated like lightning, just as it always does in a heated situation like so.

* * *

“Do you wanna know how I know I'm really into you?” Camila asked.

“Sure.”

“Because this is out of character for me. I don't usually sleep with a person before I even know what to label our relationship.”

I lifted my eyebrows and hummed. “Interesting. You've never had a one night stand?”

Camila shook her head. My eyes widened in utter shock. That seemed completely unorthodox for someone like me, when in reality the big picture was just that Camila was classy and modest, and I wasn't. I stared up at the ceiling in wonder, thinking about all of the girls I'd been with.

None of those nights felt quite as magical as this one. Camila was laying on her side with her head in the crook of my arm and her palm on resting on my taut stomach. We were close, cuddled up to one another. I stroked up and down her shoulder with my forefinger, indulging in the sweet silence.

“I just gave you a piece of me, that I probably won't ever get back. I just hope I won't ever regret giving it away. I hope you hold it with delicacy and consideration because once I've fallen entirely, I'm so fragile, and there's no coming back from it,” she whispered.

I smiled to myself, at how figuratively she worded it. It made my heart flutter. Leave it to Camila to talk like that, all sophisticated and literate. Those little quirks of hers, I loved them. She was simply perfect.

“I will. You've fallen, I've already caught you, and I swear to you I won't let go. Do you trust that?” I murmured, looking down at her fondly. “Do you trust me?”

Camila pecked my chin with a tender kiss. “Yeah.”

She looked like she knew she shouldn't, but was going to anyway because that's what her heart wanted. I was going to prove her wrong. I was going to prove to her that trusting me was the best decision she ever made. I was going to hold this piece of her gently, for as long as I possibly could.

 


	18. the cycles of a tumultuous friendship

“Lauren, lighten up a bit,” Sadie whined, pushing on my shoulder. “The appointment's in five minutes. It won't be that bad. Just do it, for me.”

I sat still in the passenger seat of Sadie's Porsche, defiantly staring straight ahead with no emotion on my face. When she said she had a surprise for me yesterday, the last thing I suspected it to be was an appointment at her dad's psychiatric office.

What kind of sick joke is that?

“Why should I do anything for you, really?” I asked, somehow maintaining my composure.

She looked unsure for a moment, hurt even. “Because we're friends, and you're the only person I know here other than my cousins. Honestly, you can act all tough and bad all you want to, but I know you care about me.”

I glared at her for a long time, the scowl on my face slowly vanishing on its own. She was right, just a little. I had a weak spot for her, just like I have for all the people I'm close with. It was very small, but still there. I knew that it would only expand the more I hung out with her.

“You're fucking annoying, do you know that?”

Sadie smiled, because she knew she had a pull on me. “You're so adorable when you look like you want to kill me.”

I mimicked her, then she mimicked me.

Reluctantly, I got out of the car. Sadie followed closely behind into the office. She went up to the front desk told the lady I was here for an appointment.

“If you really don't find it helpful, you don't have to come back again,” she murmured as we took a seat in the waiting room.

“Yeah, I know that,” I grumbled.

I slouched in my chair and just as I was getting comfortable, Dr. Castile burst through a door. He grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Sadie and I. She resembled him a lot. It was apparent that her good looks and olive skin came from his side of the family.

“Hey, Lauren. How you feeling today?” he asked once we were down the hall on the way to who knows where.

“I'm doing alright, thanks.”

Once we got settled in his office, I sat across from him and watched him jot something down on paper. He was seated behind his desk. He casually leaned back and rested one leg on his knee. I glanced at the crooked nametag hanging from his jacket's breast pocket. _MD. Nicolas Castile_.

“What's the reason or reasons that you set up this appointment today, Lauren?” Dr. Castile inquired, studying me carefully.

He did this thing with his eyes, the same thing his daughter did actually, where he seemed to be looking right through you and into your soul. It's like he could eventually figure me out without me having to tell him anything.

“Actually, Sadie scheduled it for me. I didn't know anything about it,” I explained, and smiled slightly.

Dr. Castile chuckled. “That sounds like Sadie, but you know, it sounds to me like she's only trying to help someone she sincerely cares for...”

I nodded, agreeing.

“She's always talking about you,” he added. “You're her first friend here in Miami. Only other people she has to spend time with are her cousins, but she clearly prefers time with you.”

“Yeah. Likewise.”

He merely smiled, his gaze averting upward as if he'd just gotten a thought. “I know things may seem a little awkward, because of the whole big farce that occurred at the engagement party...”

My face was turning red, I could feel it. I fidgeted a little in the leather seat, avoiding eye contact. _I'd forgotten about that actually. What was it? Almost four weeks ago? For fuck sake, why'd he have to bring it up?_

“But I want you to know that I'm not in the least bit angry about that like my wife was, and is. I'm a pretty open-minded man, Lauren, so I don't see a problem with my daughter dating or partaking in such physical activity with someone of her own sex. She's an adult, you're an adult. It's not a big deal, and frankly it's none of my business. I just wanted to put that out there, so things won't feel awkward for you. I want this to be a good environment for you.”

I finally exhaled. There was no way I'd be coming back to this place. For a moment, I was speechless. With my hands folded in my lap, I stared at him stupidly with my mouth slightly agape.

“Okay,” I muttered casually.

He smiled indulgently. “Very well. So, why do you think Sadie felt it was appropriate for you to visit me?”

My mouth fell open, then closed. It took me a while to figure out how to word things without sounding rude or aloof. I really didn't want to be here, but I also didn't want to make that evident. This was my first time actually meeting Sadie's dad, and for some reason, this first impression seemed important to me.

“I honestly don't know. She thinks I'm... damaged.”

A crease indented his forehead. “Do you think you're damaged?”

“Somewhat. But I'm working on it. Things are finally getting better now. I feel that I can finally breathe,” I said while nodding contently, and smiling at the fleeting thought of Camila.

“What hindered you from feeling like this before?”

I stared down at my hands for a long time, trying to gather my thoughts. There were so many things, so many internal conflicts, so many things going wrong. I couldn't pin it on one single thing.

“Things.”

“Care to explain?” he said softly.

“I'd rather not, but I guess I kind of don't have a choice since I'm already here.”

“No, no. You do have a choice. Do you feel like you need help?”

I hesitated a moment, and I knew he could sense that I was unsure. I felt that he could sense anything. Dr. Castile's eyebrows raised in curiosity the longer I let the question hang in the air. My response began as a shrug, then I shook my head.

“I'm happy. I've just recently gotten with someone whom I feel so profoundly for. I believe I love her, and if it's not love, then I think it's something pretty damn close to it. That scares me. How out of control I feel, but it's also so exhilarating, being with her, doing nothing, or something. It doesn't matter. That spark is always there, and as long as it never dies out, which I don't think it will any time soon, I'll be happy.”

“It's very good that you have found that, Lauren. A new relationship is an exciting thing, but it can't be good to base all of your happiness on one single person. We have the tendency to do that, sometimes it's inevitable, but we have to find other things that make us happy as well. Other things that give us peace, a sense of belonging.”

“Well, I have my niece, and my friends, photography, the beach, flannels, pretty sunsets... my girlfriend,” I said, smirking smugly for no good reason.

Maybe I was smirking because my response sounded somewhat snide, and I wasn't feeling at all apologetic. Or maybe it was the use of that word. Girlfriend. I hadn't called someone my girlfriend in a long time, and the fact that it was Camila was something to smile about all in itself.

Dr. Castile continued to study me, not at all fazed. He glanced off elsewhere momentarily, reflecting on something, grasping for something to say.

“That's very well,” he said, flashing a delighted smile. “You're not here against your will, Lauren. You never are, but I want you to know that if you ever feel like you can't breathe, give me a call.” He handed me a small card with his name and number on it. “And also, I'm not always available like today, so I'm going to set you up with a therapist in this same building who you can talk to if you ever feel that you need to come in. Call me, or let Sadie know and she'll tell me. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Okay, thank you, sir...” I stood from my chair and headed across the room.

The atmosphere was so uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if I should say anything else.

“Also, this won't cost anything, just to let you know.”

I turned to look at him just as I was about to leave out. “Oh, alright. You mean today?”

He gave a small laugh. “Any day. Any time you come in, you won't have to pay a dime. Think of it as a very good discount, for being so kind to my daughter.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

He showed me the way out and told Sadie and I to be careful driving before we left out. Sadie was surprised that things happened so quickly. But that was the thing; nothing happened. The moment we stepped outside and the fresh breezy Miami air hit my face, I was bombarded with questions.

“What the hell happened in there? That wasn't even twenty minutes.”

I looked to Sadie with an exasperated sigh, then lowered myself into the passenger seat of her car. She got in and stared at me, waiting for me to say something. Anything.

“Well?”

“I didn't feel like it was necessary. Your dad understands that. He said that if I ever have anything I want to talk about, I can come in. As of today, I feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with me, Sadie. I'm sick of people insinuating that. And Jesus, the fact that we're here really fucking pisses me off but I'm trying not to let it show.”

Sadie reversed out of the parking space with a loud rev of the engine, then jerked the gear into drive. “Well, you're doing a lovely job!” she said harshly.

Her mouth was pinched shut and she was giving me daggers as she veered out of the lot. She almost gave me whiplash with her reckless driving. I didn't know if I felt so secure sitting in the passenger seat of a sports car with an angry Sadie. But then again, I was too frustrated to care.

She'd just put me in an awkward position, and I hated nothing more than that.

“You know you have a problem with prescription pills,” murmured Sadie, after miles of silence down the expressway.

I felt like I'd just been punched in the stomach. When I looked at her, she had her gaze trained ahead and her hands tight on the steering wheel. Her knuckles were white, and judging from the grimace on her face, it took a lot for her to say that.

“No, I don't. So what? I like to get high every now and then. What's the big deal about that? As long as no one's getting hurt, I don't see a problem.”

“What if someone does get hurt eventually? What if you fall asleep at the wheel, because you obviously don't have a problem with taking Valium before you get behind the wheel!” She was becoming frantic, and it was building up. “And I'm not sneaking you anymore either!”

“That's okay. I can get along without drugs, and if not, I have other connections. Do you think I really need you?” I snapped, glaring at her out the corner of my eye.

Her hands flew off the steering wheel as she threw her hands up in aggravation. “I don't know! Do you?”

“No.”

A blanket of silence fell over us. Sadie groaned obnoxiously and veered off into the next exit.

“Fuck. I hate you so much sometimes,” she said through her teeth.

For some reason, that harsh statement made me feel like an ass. It made me feel remorse, because maybe I just was being a total asshole. Actually, there's no maybe to it. I was definitely being an asshole, but it was too late to admit that now, and pride was something that always encumbered me from admitting things, so I just kept silent the rest of the way back to my place.

Sadie was expecting me to get out of the car as soon as she pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex, but I stuck around, attempting to gather the right words.

“I know it may seem like I don't care, but I actually do – ”

“No,” she broke in, livid. “You really don't. You only care when it's convenient for you, or you don't at all. Who do you care about at all times? Yourself.” Sadie paused, her fists clenching and unclenching. Then she began mimicking me in a weird voice that sounded nothing like mine, _“'I'm Lauren Jauregui and the world revolves around me because I'm really hot and I can get anyone I want, so that's an excuse to treat people badly. I'm just an arrogant fuck, who has a lot of money for doing something I'm not even good at!”_

I merely chuckled to myself. “So, now you're bashing on me?”

The scowl on my face was menacing, and a fire started inside of me somewhere. I wanted to be the bigger person and end it here, but I just had to say what I said next.

“All you know how to do is get in front of a camera and look like a dumb whore. And by the way, you are one off camera as well.”

Getting the last insult was crucial to me, simply because if I did, I wouldn't feel so bad about myself. Maybe I was the terrible person Sadie was making me out to be. Whatever. It's her fault. She was dragging it out of me relentlessly.

Sadie stared down at her lap. “You got five seconds to get out of my car,” she said, oddly calm. She then started counting down, and I figured that was supposed to intimidate me.

Apparently I didn't get out fast enough because she slapped the hell out of my face. She didn't even get to the number three before she went all ballistic. I was in utter shock, and for some reason, unable to be angry with her. Maybe this was justified. Maybe I had that one coming to me.

But dammit, she could have at least kept her word and waited five seconds before assaulting me.

I stepped out of the car, grabbing my backpack on the way out. “You know, it's funny,” I said, slamming the door shut. “I just might have to go back to your dad's office. You can drive someone insane, and I think I'm more than half way there.”

Sadie sped off, the car leaving a loud impression on the whole neighborhood. I trudged up to my apartment with one side of my face stinging. What a great start to the day.

“Lauren, is that you?” a disembodied voice asked once I entered the apartment. Camila's voice.

A feeling of relief instantly washed over me.

“Yes,” I said back. “Where are you?”

“I'm in your bed.” She giggled.

My eyebrows raised as I hurriedly made my way across the living area. I stood in the doorway of my room, watching her snuggled up in a blanket.

“I'm so tired,” Camila whined, wallowing around to get comfortable. “Let's take a nap or something. You know, couples who nap together, stay together.”

A smile came across my features. I rushed over and jumped onto the bed right next to her.

“Couple. I like the sound of that,” I whispered.

“Me too. A lot. So...you're my girlfriend?” Camila wore an adorable smirk as she gazed at me fondly.

“Yes. I think after last night, I'm yours and you're mine.”

She blushed and sheepishly told me to be quiet. The room was dark because the curtains were closed, so it took a while for Camila to notice the reddening of my cheek. When she thought she saw something off, she turned on a lamp and studied me all wide-eyed in curiosity.

“What the hell happened to your face?” She carefully ran her finger along my cheek. “Someone slapped you. There's literally like, a hand print on your face.”

“See, what happened was...” I grunted, nonchalantly repositioning myself on the bed. “I was at Starbucks, and I grabbed this hot mom's ass, so she turned around and back handed me.”

“Lauren, stop being such a clown and tell me what happened.”

Camila was obviously taking this too seriously, and there I was laughing. Because it was funny.

“Didn't you tell me you went somewhere with Sadie earlier? Why would she hit you? And most importantly, why would you let her do that to you?”

I sighed and gave my head a shake. “Because I don't hit girls. Now, guys, I'll hit them because they ought to be roughed up, but if a girl hits me, it's for a good reason obviously. It's not like I was going to hit her back.”

“Have you ever heard of self-defense?”

“It's not like she attacked me. She just slapped me once and I got out of the car.”

“I find that...very hard to believe,” Camila stated through humorless laughter.

“What? That I didn't hit her back?” I asked incredulously. “Do you know how many times Sadie has put her hands on me? It's just her thing. I'm used to it.”

“Well, why did she?”

I shrugged. “Because, I was being an asshole.”

Camila turned her back to me and grabbed my arm. She was indicating that she wanted to spoon, obviously. I draped my arm over her waist and brought her as close to me as possible, burying my nose in her neck.

“Now that, I don't find hard to believe,” she said wearily, and giggled. “You can explain later. Right now I just want to sleep.”

“You're not going back to work?” I questioned.

She kissed the back of my hand tenderly. “No. Marielle just started working there and she's going to take my place today, so I can spend time with you.”

I sighed dreamily. “Today's been a long day.”

“It's not even one yet.”

“Still.”

* * *

“Why are you leaving so early? It's only two,” Camila whined tiredly. She tugged at my arm just as I was about to get up, pulled me back into bed next to her and embraced me tightly.

“I have to stop somewhere before I get Freya,” I explained casually, laying there while she nibbled and kissed on my earlobe.

She sat up and backed away to look at me. “Where are you stopping?”

I smiled innocently, emitting a laugh. “Just at a friend's place, you know.”

“You're stopping by Sadie's...” Camila arched an eyebrow at me, sighing once I said nothing to deny it.

For a moment I just stared at her, not really knowing what to say. “Yeah,” I muttered. “Do you think there's something wrong with that?”

“No, I don't. I just...” Camila paused, an incredulous grimace coming over her face. “She just slapped you. Why are you going to her house?”

“To make amends...”

Camila averted her gaze. I climbed out of bed and raked my hands through my hair. She stared in space, looking disgusted, with her lips pursed tightly.

“Okay.” She looked off, thinking to herself – then back to me. “Do you want me to come with?”

I sighed internally, stuffing my hands deep in my pockets. “I mean, if you want, you can. You don’t have to –”

“Never mind. I know you don’t want me to.” Camila smirked in a playful manner, tilting her head to the side just a bit.

My eyebrows furrowed as I shot her a look of protest. “Yes, I do,” I assured. “Of course I do.”

She got out of bed and waltzed on over to me. Giggling, she held my face in her hands and brought her nose to touch mine. My mouth curved to form a goofy lopsided grin once she pecked my lips.

“What are you going to do while you’re there?” Camila inquired, flicking her eyebrows up. “Going to tell her off for putting her hands on you?”

I grabbed her waist and pulled her against me. “Nah. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

She threw her head back with a cackle. “That’s a lie.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’m about to leave, Camz.”

“Okay, okay.” Camila drew in to kiss me.

It was a long kiss, which was unexpected. One that was slow and passionate. When I pulled away, she gazed at me through her lashes, a sly look in those eyes. That look – ugh, it made me want to stay.

“Bye,” Camila said innocently.

 

Before I could even knock on the front door, it swung open to reveal Castile on the other side. My heart stopped for a second, and I lost my breath. She didn’t look very pleased to see me. In fact, she looked quite surprised, dubious even. 

With my hands linked behind my back, I swayed from side to side and gave her the most charming smile I could muster up.

“Castile, how are you doing this afternoon?”

Her eyes began to squint. “The nerve of you,” she said, unbelieving.

I clapped my hands together and laughed a little. “Now, I know the last time we saw each other, things went very badly, but it we could just put that all behind us. I mean, come on! We’re friends, right?” 

I tipped my chin in the air, waiting for an answer. I was now pulling off my signature smirk that was known to charm the pants off anyone.

Castile said nothing. She just stared at me, without blinking, a look on her face that I couldn’t decipher. The smugness all over my face eventually vanished.

“Is Sadie home? That’s all I wanna know,” I said, and pursed my lips.  
She remained mute for a little longer before suddenly shouting her son’s name. When he didn’t answer, her face turned red and her mouth tightened at its corners. 

Castile turned around in the doorway and, once again, hollered, “Ross!”

“What do you want, Mom?” shouted a disembodied voice.

There came a bunch of rumbling from upstairs. I saw him come scrambling down the hall to look over the balcony down at me and his mother. Ross was a dark-haired typical looking sixteen-year-old, neither bulky nor scrawny, and he favored his mother. He wore some kind of earpiece over his head, and he was holding a controller in one hand.

“You answer me like that again and I will come up there and unplug every damn bit of that stuff, do you hear me?”

He glanced at me in embarrassment, then back at Castile. “Sorry,” he said softly. “What is it, Mom?”

“Honey, will you please go out to the poolhouse and tell Sade that she has someone who wants to see her?” Her whole tone of voice had changed entirely, and I found that slightly amusing.

Without protest, Ross hustled down the stairs and disappeared further into the house.

“She’ll be out shortly,” said Castile.

Then, the door slowly closed in my face. I looked down at the _Welcome_ mat with a sigh, and ambled on over to the steps. I sat down on the top step and waited for Sadie to come out.

It was about ten minutes before she finally showed. As soon as she saw me, she shot me that familiar look of disgust.

“What do you want?”

“To apologize,” I answered casually, smiling up at her.

“Couldn’t you have done that over the phone?” Sadie snarled.

“Don’t be silly, Sadie. I wanted to see your pretty face.”

“You are so full of shit.”

I was unfazed. This amused me, but Sadie genuinely seemed angry.

“What? Your face is quite the sight for sore eyes.”

Sadie lost it.

“Can you just fuck off?!” she shouted, her voice going up an octave and her hands shaking as they raked through her hair. “If you’re not actually going to apologize, just get in your car and leave.”

My mouth fell open, and for a moment I was too startled to say anything. But I soon got over it. I stood up from the porch step and looked her right in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for being an ass earlier,” I said finally, poking my lips out. “I never said I wasn’t going to go to your dad’s office. I just don’t feel like it’s necessary now. I’m pretty happy… Camila and I are together now. She’s happy. I’m happy. It’s all great.”

Sadie gnawed on her bottom lip as she studied me. She had this crazed vacant look in her eyes, like she could snap at any given moment.

“What about your problem with pills?” she asked simply, her voice monotone.

“I’ll work on that eventually. I’ll get better with that.”

“Well, you know I can’t keep supplying you.”

“That’s fine,” I began, pitifully. “I shouldn’t have been hounding you for them anyway. I’m sorry about that.”

Sadie crossed her arms and leaned back against the pillar across from me. She was silent for the longest. Her eyes would lift to look at me, then wander all around upon the porch floor. Normally, when things are silent, you get the idea that it’s time to leave, but she looked like she had more to say, so I stuck around.

Suddenly, she came out and, in an odd perky manner, said, “You and Camila are finally together now, yeah?”

Rolling my tongue around against my cheek, I simply nodded.

“How is it so far?”

I chuckled. “Too early to tell. But uh, it’s weird because I’m really invested in her, and it’s the first time I’ve been in a relationship where things didn’t completely revolve around just sex. I mean, I feel like it is already. I really don’t like all of that serious stuff. It bores me, but with her, the serious stuff seems interesting, worthwhile –”

“Listen, Lauren…” she paused, flustered. “I like you.”

My eyes bored a whole into hers. Why would she blatantly say such a thing? Where did she think that was going to get her? I’d known this for a while. We both had a little thing for each other, this was clear. Why would she acknowledge Camila and I, then randomly announce something we both already knew?

“I know,” I said nonchalantly, nodding once.

Sadie’s mouth was slightly ajar. “I mean, I _really_ like you.”

“And that’s understandable, because we’ve had our share of intimate moments, but –”

All of the sudden, Sadie was kissing me. Her lips were soft and enticing, tasting faintly of strawberry chapstick, but I didn’t reciprocate. I just stood there, unsure of how to respond. She had practically grabbed my face and threw herself on me. 

She had me backed up against a pillar, and I felt helpless, weak. Finally, I broke the kiss by turning away. A laugh slipped out of my mouth as I avoided her gaze, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Sadie...” I said, in my _you’ve got to be kiddin’ me_ tone. “I didn’t come here to make out with you.”

She looked down at her feet, flicking her eyebrows up. “Okay. Bye.” Sadie turned on her heel and began walking for her front door.

I was incredulous. “Are you seriously mad at me because I wouldn’t kiss you?”

She spun around and came rushing towards me, causing me to tense up. “Don’t you fucking laugh at me, Lauren!” she spat. “I’m mad at you because you think of me as a joke. You take my feelings as a joke.”

My jaw slacked, and I still had an amused expression, which only fueled the fire. “I don’t think of you as a joke, Sadie. Why do you always make me sound like a bad person?” I fussed, face to face with her.

“Because you are! You’re a terrible person. Don’t you see that? You don’t give a shit about anyone.”

“I do give a shit about you! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now! I wouldn’t have come to apologize in person. I do care, I just have a bad temper and I can’t handle your shit sometimes so I lose it and say things I don’t mean! You are beautiful, and smart, and funny, and you have a vulgar vocabulary, and those are four things I love in a lady. I’d be lucky to have you, but I’m just trying to make this work with Camila. I like you, Sadie. I like you enough to go out with you, but I like Camila more and she’s been in my life a little longer than you have. She’s had an amazing impact on me and my life, so right now, you and I cannot be anything more than friends.”

“Okay,” she said after a long wave of silence.

“Do you understand that?”

“Yes, and I respect it.”

Sighing, I broke our distance in a hesitant, wary manner. “…You wanna hug me, sweet thing?”

Sadie rolled her eyes, but eventually outstretched her arms. I brought her into me, ran my fingers through her long silky hair. She smelled so good, like lavender.

“We fight a lot,” I stated softly. “I don’t like that.”

Her mouth scrunched up. “Yeah, me neither.”

I backed away at arms’ length to look at her. “I have to go pick up Freya.”

“Okay. Tell her I said hi.”

“I will. Can I text you later?”

Sadie nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. 

Even after all that, it still felt like there was something in the air between us. Something I was trying so hard to suppress. Something toxic.

A voice in my head told me it was the obvious underlying lust we had for one another, but I knew I had to avoid that thought at all costs. So on the ride over to Freya’s school, I didn’t think at all.


	19. lauren silver-tongue jauregui

I was sipping from my second glass of wine, waiting for Camila to get back from the restroom. We were on our third date, a few weeks into the relationship. At this point in time, I could say that things were going quite well. This Friday, it was Camila’s turn to take me out and choose the restaurant. 

She ended up choosing this place, a nice classy restaurant downtown that I’d never been to. It was highly crowded, which wasn’t my cup of tea, but they served wine and other alcoholic beverages, so I obliged.

Camila suddenly appeared at my side, placing her hand on my shoulder before taking her seat across from me. She was in a casual black and white dress that adorned her hips so well. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her all night.

“You look so beautiful,” I said, setting my glass down in front of me.

She smiled. “How many times have you said that tonight?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t been keeping count.” I sat back in my seat and lifted my head in the air confidently. “You do, though. You look like such a princess.”

Her face flushed as she glanced down at her lap. A smirk at the corner of her mouth, she said, “Yo soy tu princesa?”

I moistened my lips, fondly looking into those big brown eyes. “Por supuesto, mi amor.”

Camila studied me with her mouth slightly ajar. “Me vuelves loca con esa mirada.”

“I'm not quite sure how to phrase ‘you’re turning me on’ in Spanish, I’m sorry I ruined our little moment.” 

She burst out laughing. I joined in on the laughter and reached forward to grab her thigh underneath the table.

Still giggling, she jumped and almost fell out of her chair. “How much wine have you had?” Camila questioned suspiciously, her eyes narrowing.

“Only one glass,” I lied smoothly, and held my hands up in defense.

“Yeah, right. I see that I’m going to have to drive us home tonight.”

“No, baby, I’m fine.”

Camila leaned forward and pouted at me, fetching for my hand. She stroked over my knuckles gently with her fingertips and cocked her head to the side, giving me a look that I knew too well. “Could you not get drunk tonight, Laur?”

“Who said I was getting drunk? I’ve only had two glasses, I’m just trying to wind down a little. You should try it.” I took a sly gander over her shoulder at the waiter who was making his way towards us.

I finished up the rest of my wine and held my glass out at him. “Would you mind pouring a little more for my lady?”

He happily did so, and Camila sighed with the shake of her head.

“Actually,” I blurted out. “Just leave the whole damn bottle, please.”

Chuckling, the waiter nodded and told us that our food would be out to us shortly. That was a delight to hear, because I was starving. Camila picked up the glass of wine and carefully took a small sip. She pinched her eyes shut and scrunched up her face in disgust.

“That is absolutely revolting.”

I grinned. “Yeah, wine’s an acquired taste, babe. Not all of it tastes the same though.”

Camila shook her head no a thousand times and forced the glass into my hand. “No, I can’t do that.”

“I really need to get you drunk sometime. We’ll do it one night, and I’ll make sure it’s on something good.”

Her glare at the moment was burning a hole through me. “I’m not much of an alcohol person, Lauren, you know that.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t much of a Grey’s Anatomy person before I met you, but I am now,” I jested.

“Are you trying to say you’re on a mission to turn me into an alcoholic?”

“No, I just want you to get drunk with me once, so we can have some fun.”

“Right,” Camila rolled her eyes. “I know exactly what your idea of ‘fun’ is.”

I lifted an eyebrow, smirking. The food came out a few minutes later and we indulged. While we were chatting here and there and enjoying our meal, a couple came and sat at the table only a few feet away from us, a man and a woman looking to be about our age.

The man kept glancing over at us, looking Camila and I up and down, but mostly Camila. He and I made fleeting eye contact several times, and I smiled politely to acknowledge him, but I guess he was just one of those creeps who didn’t know when to stop staring. I disregarded it for a little longer until I simply couldn’t anymore. 

I stirred my pasta around with my fork, gazing down at the plate absently. In my peripheral vision I could still see him watching Camila’s profile, getting an eyeful of her body from a side view. She was mine, only I got to look at her that way. I had a right to be livid, didn’t I?

“Thanksgiving is in a couple of days. Any idea of what your family’s doing?” Camila said out of the blue, catching my attention.

Looking up at her, my lips parted and I said, “Nah, I don’t think we’re doing much. If we are, it’ll be a drag anyways, so I probably won’t show.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, that familiar concerned look coming over her face. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know, I just think it’ll be dumb. Don’t have much of a family left, and I feel that this holiday will only make me think of that more.”

“Baby,” Camila whined, reaching for my hand to stroke it soothingly. “You’ll have me, and I’ll try my best to keep you happy, you know that.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. She was beautiful, and she cared for me just as much as I cared for her. What more could you ask for in the world? I felt as if I had everything I’d ever wanted and needed right in front of me, and I’d be damned if I let anyone take her away.

I grabbed her hand and brought her knuckles to my lips. “You always keep me happy, princesa.”

Camila smiled back at me, a dreamy look in her eyes.

The creep to the left of me was all into this. Why hadn’t his girlfriend slapped him upside the head yet? Fed up, I let go of Camila’s hand, and shot him a glare that could kill, my jaw clenching.

“You should take a picture, it’ll last longer. No, actually, if you take a picture, I’ll smash your fucking face in,” I said rather loudly, which instantly caused a scene.

The guy pulled a confused expression, flinching. “Excuse me?”

“Was I speaking in French?”

“Lauren!” Camila whispered loudly, perplexed.

He exchanged looks with his date, then looked back to me incredulously. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, feigning cluelessness.

My gaze widened with ire. “Oh, yeah? Keep on and you’ll know just what the fuck I am talking about, buddy,” I spat vehemently. 

Waiters began to rush on over because by now I’d caught the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant. The man just sat there with his hands up, appearing confounded about the whole ordeal.

“I don’t know who she thinks she is,” he huffed, and slid his chair back.

I stood up dauntlessly, ready for whatever was about to transpire. Let’s see if this fucker would really hit a girl.

“Lauren, what are you doing?” Camila demanded through gritted teeth.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” exclaimed a waiter, rushing for the disgruntled man’s side to calm him. “Do we have a problem here?” The waiter warily glanced between me and the man.

Everyone was watching from their tables, all into it as if we were a television show. 

“Yeah, there is a problem, but we’re leaving, so don’t worry ‘bout it.”

I began getting my stuff together. I snatched my bomber jacket up from the back of my chair, tossed a hundred dollar bill out onto the table and grabbed the bottle of wine to take with me, because why not. After all, I’d need it.

“C’mon, Camz.”

We dashed out of the place with all eyes on us. Usually I liked being the center of attention, but at the moment all I wanted to do was punch every single person in there square in the face. When we got out to the car, I fell into the driver’s seat and leaned over against the wheel.

“What in the hell was that?” Camila muttered, sighing. “I didn’t even get to finish my food. I know that’s kind of not important, but still. You know how I feel about food.”

I lazily lifted my head and turned it to look at her. “That guy was looking at your ass and checking you out.”

Camila sighed again, with more exasperation this time. “And? I saw him check you out too, but I didn’t go utterly ballistic on him. Were you seriously about to fight that grown man?”

“I didn’t like it!” I snapped, glaring at her. “I don’t like anyone looking at you like that. And yes, I could have taken him if it had to come down to it.”

“Lauren, it didn’t have to come down to any of that. You could have simply let it go and ignored him. Had you done that, we would still be in there enjoying our date right now.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I ruined our stupid date and this stupid restaurant with my anger issues because some sleazy guy was staring at your ass!”

Camila got quiet, and I knew that I had probably screwed up now. She just stared at me, a vacancy in her eyes so I didn’t know what to expect next.

“Stupid? You think my choice in the restaurant was stupid? You think that this entire date was stupid?” She spoke quietly, her bottom lip wobbling as she waited for my response.

“No, Camz, I don’t think that the date was stupid. I was just saying. It slipped out, I’m sorry,” I said sincerely, leaning over to cup her cheek in my hand. “You know I always have a good time with you, no matter what we do, babe. This wasn’t stupid, I just lost my temper. I’m sorry for ruining tonight.”

She somberly stared down at her lap while I stroked her cheek with my thumb. She remained silent for the longest, avoiding my gaze. I leaned in some more to kiss her ear, placing my hand over her stomach.

“Camz,” I singsonged softly and nibbled her earlobe with my lips. “Please accept my apology, babe.” I pouted against her neck, idly running my fingers across her stomach to tickle her.

“Alright,” she said finally and pushed me off of her, annoyed. 

There was a small smile on her lips that she couldn’t suppress. Camila and I traded places because she claimed that I shouldn’t be driving since I’d drank three glasses of wine. I didn’t protest. I was just happy that she wasn’t upset with me. 

Half way home, she reached over and held my hand like she always did when we were in the car together, which confirmed it. She was fine now, so I was happy. 

Clearly, this girl had me whipped.

***

Camila dug her nails into my scalp as she raked her fingers through my hair, overcome with ecstasy. I had my arms hooked around her thighs and my tongue relentlessly flicking against her throbbing bud. She was laid back on her elbows, gaping down at me in satisfaction.

I moaned, delving my tongue deep inside of her. Camila arched her back and began to writhe. She gasped loudly and instinctively forced my face against her center. Judging from the way she was jolting at the hips, I was very close to bringing her to the point of no return.

Running my fingers up and down her stomach, I pinched her clit with my lips and French kissed her flesh ever so softly. The pressure was building up, becoming too much for her to handle so at one point she tried sliding herself up, but I wrapped my forearms around her thighs and ravenously brought her back to me.

“Lauren,” she whispered, breathless.

She clutched the sheets in her fists, and when I looked up she had her eyes closed shut and her lips tightly pressed together.

“Don’t hold it in, baby” I said, turning my head to kiss the insides of her thighs and replacing my tongue with two fingers.

Camila held my gaze. I bit at her skin and she threw her head back while I continued to work on planting a bruise on her inner thigh. Right then, my phone on the nightstand buzzed with a text. She shook her head down at me with a familiar hungry look in her chocolate bedroom eyes.

_As if I was actually going to stop to answer a text…_

“Keep going. You’re going to make me… c-come, baby – Fuck! That feels so good!”

“Yeah, Mila. Say my name, I want to hear you say it. Scream it.”

I pumped my fingers in and out at a fast pace and flicked them in a come here motion, deeper and deeper with every thrust. Her walls tightened right as she squealed out my name, and then she wearily fell back flat on the bed.

Camila laid there out of breath, her chest slowly rising and caving. I kissed my way up her body until I was completely hovering over her and we were face to face. She kissed me weakly and closed her eyes. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I climbed off of Camila and flopped down on the mattress right next to her.

**Right up the street. Should be home in about five minutes** , read a text from Dinah.

I sat up in bed and snatched my shirt up from the floor. “Dinah and Freya will be back any minute now.”

Camila reached out to stroke my back. “Will they?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah. At least we got a little fun in before they got back, eh?”

She simply laughed, and rolled over and sat up to wrap her arms around my torso. She lay her head on my back and sighed dreamily.

“Don’t wanna let you go,” Camila said, groaning. “You should ask Dinah if she could go and get some milk or something before she comes home so we can have more time together.”

I raised my eyebrows. Camila was such a little sex machine. She was always reluctant to actually fuck, and by that I mean pretending to be tired just to get out of it on some occasions, or whatever, but when we finally got down to it, she never quite wanted to stop. But that was fine with me of course.

Let’s just say that three months ago when I first met her, although I’d hoped she was, I would have never actually guessed she was this loose in the bedroom. It is always the quiet and dorky ones, though.

She began latching her lips to my neck like a leech, sucking softly at first. I tipped my head back with a long relaxed sigh.

“Nah, I can’t do Dinah like that, Camz. She’s had Freya all night,” I muttered. “Ah – what are you trying to do, give me a hickey that’ll last ten years?”

Camila looked up at me and started laughing. “You’re so dumb, I’m going to punch you.” She giggled, leaning into me and pushing me to the side.

I grinned. “Babe, you might want to put on some clothes. They’ll be here soon.”

Camila and I climbed out of bed. She searched for a casual around the house outfit while I slipped back into the sleeveless tee I was wearing before. All of the sudden I decided it was going to be a no pants kind of night. I was wearing a pair of cute boxer briefs anyway, so why not.

“Laur,” Camila called, stopping at the door with her arms folded and a look of concern. 

Her perfectly plucked eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth was just barely ajar. She always looked rather cute when she made that face, so it was hard to take her serious, and even harder to concentrate on what she had to say.

“What is it, Camila?” I asked, almost patronizingly, but she didn’t notice.

“Do you think it’s weird how we went from friends to having sex?”

Wow, what a question. It took me by surprise, so for a few moments I just let it hang in the air.

“Well, if you think about it, that’s kind of how all relationships go.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” she huffed. “I mean, I went from hiding the way I felt to being so… bare, and just out there with you. It makes me feel kind of uncomfortable sometimes. Sex, to me, is a pretty big deal. I see it as giving…every part of me to you. I’ve always been kind of self-conscious about my naked body, but with you I feel more comfortable than I have ever felt showing someone all of me. It’s just that sometimes I feel that I’m not doing things right, or maybe you think I’m overdoing it, or not doing anything at all.”

Camila gnawed on her bottom lip nervously, her eyes growing wide with anticipation. I just stared at her, not really sure what to say because I still didn’t get what she was trying to convey here.

“I get what you mean, Camz, but at the same time I don’t.”

She looked so embarrassed. “I just want to know what you think of me in bed…” she croaked, fidgeting agitatedly. “We never really talk about it. It’s just like, you’re really experienced, and I’ve only had sex with a girl once and she broke up with me after it. I just want to know if I meet up to your standards.”

“I don’t have any special standards, alright? I just love making you moan, and I love the way you touch me. Eating you out is something I could do all night long. And listen, I’m into whatever. You can breathe around me. Don’t hold back. You don’t have to be scared of judgement or whatever. I’m very open-minded, Camila, and I really love sex. Especially with you.”

She blushed. “Yeah,” she said, stifling a grin while glancing down at the floor. “You’re really good at it too.”

I shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back on the bed with my palms pressed to the mattress. “I’ve had lots of practice. You know what they say, practice makes perfect,” I jested, and grinned from ear to ear.

Camila’s shoulders slumped and she rolled her eyes. “You’re so dumb.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

We both heard the sound of the front door opening, then came Freya’s mighty little voice hollering my name, and asking if I was home.

“I don’t think they’re home,” she said dejectedly. “I wish they would have took me, Dinah. All aunt Lauren does now is pay attention to Mila and not me.”

Camila and I exchanged looks. She jabbed a finger in the direction of the door, gesturing for me to get on out there. I hopped off of the bed and came out of the room. Dinah was at the end of the hallway, shaking her head and giving me a knowing look. I put my finger over my lips and eased into Camila’s bathroom to clean myself up a little.

When I came out, Freya was sitting at the bar slumped over, scowling down at her ice cream cone.

“Hey, Freya. How’s my favorite princess doing?”

“Hey, Aunt Lauren.” She didn’t sound happy to see me like she normally was. She avoided eye contact and played with her hands. “Did you have fun with Mila?”

“Yeah, we had a good time. How was your day?”

Freya continued to stare down at her ice cream. I looked to Dinah in curiosity. Her mouth fell open, but she hesitated a moment.

“Freya hasn’t had the best day, Lauren… Tell her what happened at school, Freya,” Dinah urged, comfortingly patting her on the shoulder.

Freya didn’t say anything at first, but when I sat down in the stool next to her, and forced her to look at me by grabbing her chin, she mumbled out some words that I weren’t able to identify.

“Freya, tell me what happened, or you’re going to bed early with no TV tonight.”

“I got into a fight,” she blurted.

“A fight?” I asked dubiously, and glanced over at Dinah for confirmation. She simply nodded.

“Do you remember Jacob? I told you that he’s mean to me and picks on me. Well, today I called him a ratchet ass douchebag.”

I had to clear my throat several times to keep myself from bursting out laughing, because I was supposed to be something like a parent to Freya and sadly, I had to discipline her whenever she did wrong, but holy fuck. My niece called the jerk-off of a kid whose been bullying her a “ratchet ass douchebag”. 

Isn’t that something?

Dinah pursed her lips and turned away to avoid laughter as well.

“You – You called him that to his face? For real?” I said skeptically, searching her big worried eyes.

Freya sucked in her bottom lip, appearing to be so ashamed. Finally, she nodded, and began to cry. And I’m not talking about fake tears with the intention to make me feel sorry for her, but full on bawls. There was snot and slobber and all. She was truly upset with herself.

I cocked my head to the side, cutting my eye at Dinah. She looked from the crying five-year-old to me, the clueless aunt, and threw her hands up with a shrug.

Sighing to myself, I scooted my chair closer to Freya and rubbed her back soothingly. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. You don’t have to cry, I’m not mad at you. Alright?”

Her lips quivered as she shot me a look of surprise. “You’re not mad at me?”

“No. Just tell me why it happened. Why did you call him that?”

“We were on the playground and I was playing with my friends and he pushed me. I fell and got sand in my mouth and I was so mad that I yelled at him. I don’t even know what those words mean, Aunt Lauren, I was just mad and I wanted to punch him, but I didn’t.” Freya bowed her head murmured, “I’m sorry I said bad words.”

I brought her into a hug. “Nah, Freya it’s okay. Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart. We all get mad sometimes and say bad things. He shouldn’t have pushed you. That was wrong of him, but you know, the good thing out of all this is that you stood up for yourself in a non-violent way. At least you didn’t punch him.”

“Yeah,” said Freya. “Jacob got suspendedable, but I didn’t. I got –”

“Wait, Jacob got what now?” I asked her through chuckles.

“Suspendedable.”

Dinah and I erupted with laughter, while Freya looked at us both confusedly. 

Suspended. She meant suspended. All I could do was shake my head at her cuteness and tell her to go on.

“I got a paper from the principal and my teacher Ms. Frost. I think it tells you what I did…”

“Well, alright, missy.” I patted her on the back and smiled. “You’re not in trouble with me, but I want you to know that you can’t go around saying things like that. The next time he bothers you, if there is a next time, hold in that temper of yours and tell the teacher. If she doesn’t do anything about it, I sure as hell will. Just let me know. And I’m also going to need to see that paper they gave you.”

Freya cracked a small smile, nodding up at me. She hopped off the stool and scurried into my bedroom for her backpack. Dinah was leaning back on the counter, wearing the same exhausted look as I. She puffed out her cheeks and released a long breath, her shoulders slumping.

“She give you a hard time?” I inquired, grinning crookedly.

Dinah shrugged. “Nah, she was good, Lo. Just kind of down about everything that happened today. The ice cream lifted her mood a little though.”

I chuckled inwardly. “Yes. Ice cream always helps with her.”

“Sure does. How was your date night with Mila?”

“The usual. You know, it was good, then it got bad, but then it got good again.” I started laughing, wiggling my eyebrows at Dinah as I leaned over the bar on an elbow.

She immediately caught my drift, and nodded with an amused yet disgusted look upon her face. Dinah and I’s friendship had mended since Camila and I got together. Dinah was all for the relationship, and one of the main reasons why she was angry with me on a daily basis is because she felt that I was screwing with Camila, _figuratively_ , and screwing with Sadie, _literally._

Sadie and I were no longer in contact. Things just kind of stopped abruptly, like I hadn’t talked to her since I went over to her house that day to apologize for something that I can’t remember. She hadn’t texted, and I hadn’t bothered to start up a conversation.

Camila emerged from around the corner and casually ambled into the kitchen. She was looking down at the floor as she walked, and her wild hair shielded her face. She soon flicked it out of her eyes, ran her fingers through it and greeted Dinah.

“Dinah, are you doing anything special on Thanksgiving?” she asked, eyebrows upraised.

I winced in her direction and shook my head, but Camila didn’t notice. This was about the fourth time she’d mentioned Thanksgiving tonight.

Dinah laughed dryly. “No. Don’t really have anyone here to spend it with.”

“You’re not flying out to California?”

“Nah.”

“You guys know what we should do?”

Setting my glass of wine down, I licked the bitterness off of my lips, savoring the taste. “What is that?”

“We should have our own little get-together here and invite people over,” Camila chirped, excitedly gripping onto my arm. It was an attempt to shake some excitement into me.

She looked at me for confirmation. I raised my brows patronizingly, nodding, giving her a slight smile. Dinah was looking between the two of us, appearing neutral. Camila stared at me a little longer, and it was then that I realized she wanted me to actually speak and give a response.

I thought, _Whatever makes you happy, but I’m not participating,_ but said, “Sure, that would be nice, babe. You always come up with such great ideas.”

Dinah snickered and looked off momentarily before shooting me one of those looks. She caught onto my game instantly, which wasn’t surprising. Dinah had seen me sweet talk a lot of girls. I could tell Camila just about anything and she wouldn’t question it.

What scared me, though, is that she could do the same to me. Usually it wasn’t like that, but she had a way with me, just like I had a way with her.

“Then after we finish up here, you and I could go over to my parents’ house. They always have their dinner pretty late in the afternoon, so we could do ours early and have time to stop by there.”

My eyes almost popped out of my head. For a moment, I was speechless while Camila just sat there nonchalantly looking at her phone. She was already in the middle of texting Marielle about the get-together.

“I’ve never met your parents,” I said slowly. “Aren’t they homophobic?”

Camila’s mouth fell open and closed, then did the same again. “They aren’t necessarily homophobic, Lauren… They’re just – I don’t know, but you know, there’s a first time for everything.”

“I don’t want to meet your parents, Camila,” I interjected, a blunt edge to my voice. 

She gaped at me like I’d just slapped her in the face.

“I’m going to go see what the kid is up to,” Dinah said tersely, hurriedly removing herself from the room.

With the silence closing in on us and her staring at me, eyes twitching as ire built up, it felt like the temperature in the room had just dropped thirty degrees.

“I didn’t mean it in a rude way.” I sucked in my bottom lip, nervously chewing it. “It’s just that we’ve only been together for what, like a month now?”

Her gaze fell to the granite counter top, and she said nothing.

“Camila?”

“No, it’s okay,” she insisted, her voice a low monotone. “It’s not like you have to. It’s not like it’s some official meeting, like _oh, I love you so much that I want to meet my parents._ I just thought that we should pay them a visit because it’s a holiday.”

“Fine. I’ll go to your parents’ house on Thanksgiving, damn.”

“I don’t want you to do anything if it’s in reluctance.”

“Okay, answer this. Are you going to tell them that I’m your girlfriend, or are you going to say we’re just friends?” I sneered.

Camila looked disgusted. “No, I’m going to tell them that you’re a girl I sleep with occasionally and go out on dates with,” she retorted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you don’t even treat me like I’m your girlfriend half of the time!”

“In what ways do I not treat you like you’re my girlfriend?” I snapped, standing to my feet. “If you don’t think I treat you the way you should be treated then maybe we shouldn’t be together. Maybe you should move the fuck out or something!”

She didn’t say anything.

“Things were so easy before you moved in. Things were simple. I could easily identify my feelings. It was always _I’m sad as fuck or I want to kill myself._ It was just sadness and I had nothing else to focus on, and in a way that was great. I grew used to it. Then, I didn’t have to deal with this!” I flailed my hands out in front of me. “Then, I didn’t have to deal with you invading my thoughts 24/7. I didn’t have to deal with worrying about whether I was doing something right, or whether you’re happy. I didn’t have to worry about some stupid relationship so much. I didn’t have to put anyone before myself.”

“You still don’t have to deal with any of those things,” Camila said matter-of-factly.

I grabbed the bridge of my nose. “But I do,” I exclaimed passionately. “Because I love it.”

Her eyes fixated on me for the longest, narrowing. “Now you’re kind of scaring me.”

“Yeah. I’m scaring myself, because I feel so damn strongly for you, and I’ve never felt this way before, yet I still fuck things up. You’d think I’d get my shit together if I care so damn much, but no, I’m an idiot.” I darted away to go sit down on one arm of the sofa.

Camila sighed, soon following after me. She tenderly grabbed onto my upper arm and placed a kiss on my temple.

“You’re not an idiot,” she said softly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. You don’t have to go to my parents’ house if you don’t want to. That doesn’t make you a bad girlfriend.”

I glanced up at her pitifully. “But it does,” I huffed, feigning shame.

Camila began to stroke my hair. “It doesn’t. You don’t have to go.”

“I’ll go, Camz. I’m sorry, I was just being an ass. That’s not acceptable…”

“I’m expecting too much of you, too early. I see that you just want to take it slow.”

“Yeah.” I nodded a thousand times. “I just want to take it slow, that’s it.”

She cracked a smile, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Maybe Christmas dinner will work, huh?”

I smiled up at her charmingly, bringing in between my thighs by the waist. “Yep,” I acquiesced, knowing I’d have to talk myself out of that when the time came as well.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Alright. No hard feelings?”

Not exactly something you’d say to a girlfriend, huh?

Camila seemed mesmerized as I gave her the look, the look that got me everything. “No hard feelings,” she repeated.

I placed my forefinger under her chin and leaned in for a kiss that turned out to be pretty lengthy.

“Goodnight. I’ll be in there soon. I have to put Freya to bed.”

She nodded with a cheeky smile before whirling around to leave the room. I watched her hips as she walked. When she glanced over her shoulder and caught me, I merely winked. 

Camila giggled all the way down the hall. My bedroom door opened and Dinah slowly poked her head out, checking to see if the coast was clear. She shot me a speculative look, eyebrows lifting. I nodded and gave her a thumbs up, a sly glint in my eyes.

"How in the hell did you manage to get yourself out of that one?" Dinah asked in incredulity.

With a faint and easy smile tugging at my lips, I shrugged my shoulders casually and said, "It's all in the eyes."


	20. a heartfelt holiday for the dysfunctional

On Thanksgiving Day, Freya lost one of her front teeth while eating breakfast, and for her, that was when the idea of the tooth fairy was born. Because this was her first time losing teeth, she’d never even heard of the magical fairy who flew in your room to leave a few dollars under your pillow in exchange for a tooth.

Camila mentioned it, of course. The thought was far from my mind whenever Freya came up and told me one of her teeth had fallen out. I simply patted her head and said, “Aw, kid. You’re growing up.”

She went in to the bathroom, rinsed out her mouth with saltwater, and that was that. According to Camila, though, this was a milestone. Freya had a wet paper towel hanging from her mouth to absorb the blood and Camz started going on about the tooth fairy, putting all these ideas and questions in the kid’s head.

Then she left me all alone with an inquisitive child to go last minute shopping with Dinah.

We were sitting on the couch beside one another, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. This was something I did with Chris, Mom and Taylor every Thanksgiving as a kid, while Dad was in bed snoring. He’d later join us though, usually just an hour before it was about to end. He’d never miss Santa’s appearance at the end though.

That was the most exciting part to us as little kids. As Chris and I got older, we’d take joy in seeing Taylor rhapsodize over Santa, and give each other a knowing look because we knew the old fat man in a red suit wasn’t real. But we wouldn’t dare ruin her childhood.

“How will the tooth fairy know where I live?” Freya asked.

She tore me from my reminiscence. I glanced down at her and thought a moment, not sure how to answer that one. If Camila were here, she’d know exactly what to say. I was good with Freya, but it was pretty obvious that Camila was way better with kids than I.

“She has a map. It’ll be easy for her to find you,” I explained casually. “Just remember to put your tooth under the pillow tonight, or she won’t give you any money because she won’t know.”

Freya studied me excitedly, her big brown eyes full of wonder. “I can’t wait to see her!”

I furrowed my eyes dramatically. “No, you can’t see her. No one ever sees her.”

“Why?” She eagerly grabbed onto my arm, shifting herself against me and fidgeting like children do.

“Well, that’s just the rules,” I said, and took a swig of my soda. “Want some?”

Freya shook her head, too intrigued by the thought of this magical tooth fairy to indulge in a can of grape soda, which was her favorite by the way. She focused on the parade once again, but I could tell she wasn’t really watching it. Her mind was steadfast on tonight.

I smiled down at her, all of the sudden admiring her innocence and youth. How lucky of her? All she had to worry about today was getting her tooth underneath a pillow so an imaginary fairy could fly in and leave her some money.

How I missed those days dearly.

There was a knock at the door, which forced me to leave my comfortable spot on the couch. I groaned and got up lazily to answer it. Looking through the peephole, I was surprised to see Sadie standing patiently on the other side. I sighed to myself.

_Really? On Thanksgiving Day? Now I’d have to invite her over for the dinner. Dinah surely won’t like that, and Camila probably won’t either but she won’t tell me how it really makes her feel._

Glaring up to the ceiling in annoyance, I ran my tongue along my bottom lip and reluctantly swung the door open.

“Hey,” I greeted with an awkward smile. “Haven’t heard from you in quite a while.”

Sadie shifted her weight from one foot to another, her mouth scrunching up on one side. “Yeah. I tried texting earlier about comin’ over, but you didn’t answer. I hope you don’t mind.”

I took a moment to look her up and down. Her hair was a mess and she reeked of alcohol and sweat.

“Nah, I don’t… You can come on in.” I stepped to the side to allow her in.

Freya beamed with excitement at the sight of her and came running over. “Hey Sadie!”

Sadie squatted down to her level and smiled sweetly down at the cheerful child. “Hey, kiddo. What’s goin’ on?” She raised her hand for a high five and Freya immediately smacked her palm.

“I lost a tooth! Look!” Freya grinned to show the gap in her grill.

“Wowza. You’re a little snaggletoothed monster now, aren’t ya?” said Sadie. “I remember when my little brother lost his first tooth. I was the one who punched it out.”

Freya burst out laughing. Leaning back against the door frame, I smiled, fondly looking between the two. I endearingly patted Freya’s cheek and asked for her to go sit down and watch the parade while Sadie and I talked for a moment. She respectfully obeyed.

“Been a while,” I began, sighing.

She pressed her lips together, studying me. “You kinda already said that.”

“Well, it just has been.”

“You didn’t really text me like you said you were going to, so you know…”

“You didn’t text me either.”

“Figured you didn’t want to talk.”

I held her gaze, my eyes slowly narrowing just a bit as a smirk formed on my lips. “Now, Sadie, you know I’m always willing to talk to you,” I said, glancing down at the floor momentarily, then back up at her through my lashes.

Sadie just watched me with a knowing look, not at all fazed by the change in my voice, or the smirk, or the look in my eyes. She flicked up her eyebrows, folded her arms and said, “Okay, anyway, my mom kicked me out of the poolhouse this morning ‘cause I kinda had a party last night, and I –”

“Wait, you had a party last night, and you didn’t invite me?”

“Frankly, I was too intoxicated to think about you.” She sounded way too happy about that.

I almost felt kind of hurt, but my smirk remained unwavering. “Who did you invite?”

“My cousins, and they invited people they knew. It got out of hand, and there was a shit ton of drugs there so I figured you would’ve loved it, but I didn’t want to deal with you so I didn’t call.”

“Sadie, can’t you see I’m a mother now? I don’t do drugs!” I whispered melodramatically.

I managed to keep my laughter in only for about two seconds after that, then I exploded. Sadie and I laughed in each other’s face, slapping and shoving one another’s shoulder.

“You’re so stupid!”

“I know.”

When the laughter died down, Sadie turned on her serious face and tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. “But seriously, Patricia kicked me out.”

“But it’s Thanksgiving,” I noted, a bit dubious.

“You really think she cares what day it is?”

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I rocked back and forth on the heel of my feet. “I don’t know, Sade. That’s pretty cold.”

Sadie laughed, but I could see the hurt in her hazel eyes. “That’s exactly what she is.” She paused and then said, “I brought you some champagne by the way, it’s out in the car.”

My eyes widened as I grabbed a hold of her shoulders. “You brought me some bubbly?” I whispered, incredulous.

She grinned that million dollar smile of hers and nodded smugly. “I did, and I also have some special brownies.”

“Well, we’re having a little dinner here today, Sadie. You’re invited.”

“Sweet.”

It turns out that those special brownies Sadie mentioned were pot brownies. She had half a pan out in her Porsche and although I thought that it was odd, I assumed they were just regular brownies until she almost slapped one out my hand as I tried to offer Freya one.

It was too late then.

I ate one and we sat out in her car for about an hour and a half just talking, catching up. The conversation seemed to get deeper and more intimate as time went on. I couldn’t quite explain it, but there was a shift in the air. Freya was in the backseat playing Mario Kart on a Nintendo DS that Sadie had brought along.

“Camila was the one who came up with this idea for a get-together. You know what I say, Sadie?” I said, looking over at her vacantly, my movements labored.

Sadie was trying her hardest to stifle a grin. She ended up snickering, and asked, “What do you say, Lauren?”

“I say – I say, fuck that. I hate holidays, shit!”

Sadie burst out laughing, rocking back and forth hysterically. She was seated in the driver’s seat Indian style, facing me with a hump in her back. She studied me curiously for a moment as I just stared at her in a daze, my mouth hanging open. I motioned for her to come closer with my finger, blinking my heavy eyelids.

“What?” she giggled.

When she was right in my face, I got a little closer, laughed gawkily and whispered, “I’m _so_ messed up right now… I hate you!”

We were both such comedians at the moment.

“On Thanksgiving! What a fucking loser I am!” I wheezed with laughter, falling over into Sadie’s lap, laying all across the middle compartments in the car. “Camz is gonna kill me, maaan!”

Sadie mimicked the way I said “man”, drawing it out longer than it initially was, which caused us both to go into a fit of laughter once again. I slapped Sadie’s arm multiple times to get her attention and ended up forgetting why I was even trying to do so.

“The hell do you want? Why are you slapping me?”

“Let’s – uh… Let’s… Let’s go back up to the apartment. Camz and Dinah gonna be back soon.”

We wobbled on out of the car. I’d closed the door in Freya’s face because I’d totally forgotten about her entire existence. Sadie, who was in much better shape than I was, reminded me that I had a niece. I picked her up and carried her over my shoulder up the stairwell, followed by Sadie.

Freya enjoyed this immensely.

Freaking out for no good reason, I sat her down in front of the door, grabbed her face and checked her eyes and asked a bunch of stupid questions about how she was feeling to see if she’d gotten into the brownies. Sadie convinced me that Freya was fine and that I was just being paranoid. I quickly calmed down.

I opened the door to my apartment and hurriedly put Freya through. Just her presence was overwhelming for me. I felt way too fucked up to be in charge of a child. When I came in I was startled to see that Camila and Dinah were already home, but grateful as well.

Mostly startled and worried though. I didn’t want Camz to see me so obviously trashed.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed, grinning at the two of them.

“Lauren, I called you like five times and you never answered. You left the door unlocked. Where were you?”

Aiming my thumb over my shoulder, I paused a moment unintentionally, having a bit of difficulty trying to spit out the words I wanted to say.

“Was out in the Porsche with Sadie.”

Dinah didn’t look too thrilled at all to see Sadie. Camila, on the other hand, played things off quite well.

She smiled and waved at her politely. Sadie gave Camila the nod of acknowledgement. She threw her head back a little too hard and almost lost her balance entirely. How that happened, I have no fucking clue, but it was hilarious. I think that was when they noticed something was definitely up.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Sadie exclaimed, grinning goofily.

“Babe? Can I see you in your bedroom for a minute?” Camila asked, flustered.

“Which room is my bedroom? Yours down the hall or that one right there?” I winked, and I recall thinking I had just said the most witty thing. “I mean, haven’t slept in my room for so long, so technically, it’s not my bedroom anymore.”

Camila pursed her lips as her eyes hardened. “Can I see you in _your old room_?”

“Sure, darling.” I advanced and she quickly escorted me out of the kitchen by the arm.

She slammed the door shut behind her once we were both in the seclusion of my room. Judging from the way her eyes shined in utter confusion and ire, and from the way her jaw was clenched, I could tell I was about to hear a mouthful.

“You didn’t tell me that you invited Sadie, and you certainly didn’t tell me that you’d be getting high,” Camila fussed through gritted teeth.

I stuffed my fists in my pockets, frowning down at her and rocking back on the heel of my shoes. “It was kind of unexpected,” I mumbled.

Camila just stared. She didn’t say a word. She simply stared, clenching and unclenching her fists out in front of her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry with you. I just – I – I don’t know what to do.”

Unable to close my mouth, I held her gaze stupidly. “Did you find a turkey?” I said finally.

“I want Sadie gone.”

“She’s my friend, Camz. I can’t do her like that. Her mom kicked her out this morning.”

“That’s not my fault! That’s not any of our faults!” Camila shouted.

My brows furrowed and the frown on my face deepened. I’d never seen Camila this mad. She was livid. I was higher than a kite, but I could still see that Camila was hurt by my actions and that made me feel like an asshole. It’s like I never failed at failing to please her.

“My God, Lauren…” She raked her fingers through her hair in distress and paced a little. “What is your problem? I can’t figure that out. It’s something I truly cannot figure out.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice sounding pitiful and barely audible.

She folded her arms, cutting her eye over at me in disbelief. “I really just don’t think I can put up with you today. In fact, I know for sure that I don’t want to.”

I bowed my head, then looked back up at her through my lashes like a sad puppy. “You don’t want to put up with me?”

“No. Not while you’re like this. You’re like a big kid or something, I really don’t understand it. I can’t leave the house for a couple of hours without you doing something stupid! On Thanksgiving, Lauren? Really?”

“I told you it was unexpected, Camz. She gave me a brownie, I didn’t know it was a pot brownie. I don’t even like pot. Why would I deliberately ingest something I don’t like?”

“She gave it to you without telling you what was in it?” Camila was enraged.

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“She has to leave. I don’t care about her mom kicking her out. She has to leave. Now.”

“Babe, that’s not fair, though,” I protested, speaking in slow motion. “It’s a holiday, come on. She brought us champagne.”

Camila’s eyes narrowed and she recoiled, confusion and incredulity all over her face.

“That is the last thing you need. I really don’t want you to ruin our first holiday together even more than you already have. Let’s just keep some space between us for a couple of hours. I can’t do this right now.”

I raised a forefinger, waited for my time to speak. “Okay, babe… So, Sadie’s staying right?”

She was already on her way out of the bedroom, one hand on the doorknob. Suddenly, she whipped her head back with a look that could kill. “I don’t give a fuck,” she emphasized, enunciating each word with venom.

Moistening my lips, I straightened my posture and shoved my hands deep in the pockets of my pants, eyebrows upraised in utter shock. Camila wasn’t one to use the F-bomb too easily. The only time she ever said it was in bed, or when she was extremely angry.

We clearly weren’t fucking, so yeah, Camila was livid. And that’s never a good thing, because Camila was the queen of passive-aggressive bullshit. No – I take that back. Not even the queen, more like _the_ _goddess_ of passive-aggressive bullshit.

I figured she’d more than likely let it all go if I gave her some space. Besides, it was Thanksgiving.

 

***

 

I woke up to the sound of distant chattering, conversation being held in another room. Upon opening my eyes, I had to make note of a few things, jog my memory. _It is Thanksgiving. I got high unintentionally, now Camila’s mad at me. People should be over now… When did I even fall asleep?_

Sighing and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I rolled over on my back and gazed at the ceiling. Right next to me was an outfit Camila had laid out for me to put on. An ugly Christmas sweater with reindeer on it and my favorite pair of black skinny jeans. Apparently my sweats and tank top wasn’t decent enough.

Eager to see what was going on, I hurriedly changed clothes and went out to join the company. My friends were here along with people that they’d brought. Camila’s friend Marielle was also here, and some other guy who I’d never seen in my life was sitting on my couch watching the football game.

They all looked to me as soon as I emerged. I forced a timid smile and waved.

I just nodded, and smiled with my eyes set on the floor as I hurried on over to the fridge to retrieve my bottle of champagne. I poured me some in a glass and took it down all at once before pouring another.

“Babe,” Camila whined, hurrying over to me. “We were planning on saving that for when the food got done.”

I stared at her a moment, suddenly relieved at the fact that she didn’t seem angry at me anymore. We were in front of people though.

“Oh man.” I grimaced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t go chugging it down and get all drunk on us.” She gave me a look, and for a moment, I could’ve sworn I was talking to my mother instead of my girlfriend.

“Alright.” I brought her into me, my hand on the small of her back, going in for a quick kiss.

She drew back at arms’ length and looked at me like I was the only person in the room. I narrowed my eyes, almost telepathically questioning whether or not she was still mad. Camila’s gaze was soft and forgiving, yet still stern. She was giving me a break, but I still on thin ice.

 “You look like a sexy housewife with that apron on,” I muttered into her ear.

Camila rolled her eyes playfully and shoved me away before retreating back to the oven by Marielle. I casually greeted Ally, who was also helping with the food in the kitchen. Mani and Dinah were at the bar, not too far away from the cooking action.

“I suppose you guys don’t need any help… Where’s Freya?” I asked anyone who was willing to answer.

“Freya and Tate are in Dinah’s room attempting to put together a puzzle,” Ally informed through a smile.

Taking a sip from my glass, I made my way to Dinah’s room to check on them. I stood in the doorway, watching from afar as she and Tate bonded. Neither of them noticed my presence.

When I sat down on the couch next to the random guy I’d never met, he and I exchanged a look.

“Hi, I’m Lance, Marielle’s boyfriend,” the blue-eyed dreamboat greeted, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lauren. Nice place you got here.”

A vacant look in my eyes, I looked at his hand, up at him, then reluctantly took his hand in mine. His handshake was so firm that it hurt, but I refrained from wincing and acted as though everything was cool. _Fucking meathead._

For the next few minutes I watched absently as the players on the screen ran around trying to get the ball to the other end of a field, somewhat clueless as to what was going on.

 _How dumb is football,_ I thought.

Someone sat next to me on the other end of the couch. When I glanced over I was surprised to see Sadie, but then I remembered that she’d been here all along. There were so many people in my apartment that I had forgotten she was one of them.

She studied me in concern. “You alright?”

“Yep,” I answered curtly, averting my gaze back to the television.

I folded my arms and watched the football game, every now and then glaring at her out the corner of my eye.

“That brownie really fucked me up, you know?” I said finally in low tones.

Sadie snickered. “Do you want another one?”

“No way. Fuck you. I had no idea there was pot in those things…”

She was shocked by this, looking at me with narrowed eyes like I was the stupid one. “I told you they were special, and they were just sitting in my car. Do you think I carry around regular brownies in my car and give them out to people? That’s weird.”

I took down the rest of my champagne and indifferently said, “I don’t know, Sadie.”

In my peripheral vision I could see her still looking at me.

“Are you mad? Did Camila find out?”

Sadie seemed genuinely concerned, but all I could do was huff and roll my eyes.

“… I’m not mad, but she did.”

“Is she mad?”

Sadie’s big hazel eyes bored into mine, and all I could think about was how insanely attractive she really was. I hated myself – Dinah was attractive. Mani was attractive. Ally was attractive. My friends are attractive, but I didn’t take notice to it like I took notice to Sadie’s beauty.

I didn’t want to see my friends naked. Sadie was a friend too. What made her so different?

Sadie was nothing but a complete threat to my relationship. I couldn’t get rid of her though. Just when I thought I’d be without her, she’d come back out of nowhere; like an abandoned puppy that somehow found its way back at your heel.

There was a part of me that was bothered by this, but also a part of me that couldn’t be bothered, merely because it was Sadie.

Feeling embarrassed, I turned my head to face the TV. The blank look I was holding would probably give her the idea I was frustrated. Maybe that would push her away.

But then again, no one here except me really liked Sadie. She had no one else to flock to, so there she remained – super close to me on the sofa, watching my profile and waiting for some kind of expression or response.

“I didn’t know you were this into football,” she said sarcastically.

“I’m still kind of high, and I’d rather just not talk right now.”

She hesitated a moment. “Okay then.”

 

By the time dinner was ready, I was tipsy, on top of the fading yet still prominent effects of the pot brownie I ingested three hours before. It was a calm intoxication and I had it all completely under wraps. I was totally capable of controlling whether or not I made an ass of myself, and all I had to do was sit and eat.

With the help of Dinah and Marielle, Camila put together a huge Thanksgiving feast. There was corn, yams, macaroni, a big turkey, dressing, ham, cheesecake pumpkin pie. Everything delicious under the sun.

There wasn’t enough room at the dining table, so some had to sit at the couch and coffee table, but no one really complained once they started eating.

Camila was at my right, Freya on my left, with Sadie in front of me and Dinah on the other end of the table. The rest were in the living area close by. It was pretty decent – sitting under one roof with all of the people who made life worthwhile lately.

I had never done this. It was always dinner at mom and dad’s on Thanksgiving. This was something different. And as I sat there, watching everyone get along, carrying conversation, enjoying each other’s company, I couldn’t help but take in how pleasantly refreshing it all was.

Unbeknownst to everyone, I silently hoped that this would become tradition.

I silently hoped that I never ever ran these people off.

“Hey,” I called loudly as I went to pour myself another glass of wine, taking everyone’s attention from their plates.

Camila’s posture seemed rigid and her eyes widened a little at me in apprehension. She assumed I was drunker than I really was and that I was probably about to pull an idiot move. Once I sat the bottle of wine down she inconspicuously took it and placed it on the other end of the table.

“When I was younger my mom would make us go around the table and say what we were thankful for. In honor of her, I’d like to do that,” I said.

A smile came over Camila’s face as she exhaled in relief.

“Who wants to go first?”

Everyone looked around, smiling to one another, an encouraging glint in their eye.

“Why don’t you go first, Laur?” Camila suggested, placing her hand over mine.

“Why me?” I asked around a mouthful of food.

“Don’t eat with your mouth open!” Freya scolded.

Camila grinned. “Because it was your idea, and I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

“Yeah. We all certainly would,” Normani chimed in, causing a few laughs.

I looked to Camila and she looked to me, her eyes soft and tender with admiration and love. I turned my hand over so that hers laid firmly in my palm. Our fingers soon interlocked.

“Well,” I said, and paused. “I’m thankful for the universe giving me the most beautiful people, placing them in my life to make a difference, placing them in my life to make up for the ones in my family that I’ve lost. I’m thankful for the realization that family isn’t just blood. This is family. And I love my family.”

They all awed. My pretty brown eyed girl squeezed my hand, looked me right in the eyes and said, “I’m thankful for you. Everyone else too, but mostly you.”

I matched her smile, and we continued around the room.

“I’m thankful for my aunt Lauren.”

“I’m thankful for having people to eat with today.”

“I’m thankful for all of my friends in this room.”

“I’m thankful for Marielle.”

“I’m thankful for you guys, and this bomb ass food.”

Whatever statements made after that, they didn’t exist to me, because Camila started playing footsie with me under the table. I glanced her way with a smile. At first it was playful footsie, as per usual, but then, things got a little weird. Weird as in getting turned on at the dinner table with your friends and family because your girlfriend decided to start stroking her foot along your leg and ankle in a suggestive manner.

Trying to play it cool, I took a bite from a roll and cut my eye at her sideways. Although her leg was still entangled with mine, she was eating, acting perfectly normal for everyone. Roll in one hand, I took my free hand and confidently sat it on Camila’s knee.

Her body went tense, and when I ran my hand up her inner thigh she quickly pinched the skin on the back of my hand and swatted it away. A yelp involuntarily flew from my mouth, and Camila looked at me in surprise just as everyone else did. Except her look was much deeper than wondering why that noise emitted from my mouth.

My face felt hot. I averted my gaze down to the food on my plate. Camila and I kept our hands and feet to ourselves for the rest of dinner.

 

A couple hours later I found myself in Camila’s car on the way to her parents’ house. I had done a lot of thinking about the subject and figured I’d best go if I wanted Camila happy. It was a holiday, and I wanted us to end the night on good terms.

I told myself that visiting my girlfriend’s parents couldn’t be that bad. I dealt with annoying clients all the time and I got through it. Sometimes barely, but I made it.

For most of the ride, Camila was completely silent. She had a crease in her brow and seemed either really focused on the road, or focused on whatever was on her mind. I assumed she was just nervous about me meeting her parents and pondering that, but not quite.

“Do you have a foot fetish?” she asked out of the blue, a deeply curious expression on her face.

I was caught off guard. “No,” I said simply, my eyes narrowing. “Do you?”

Her eyes almost popped out of her head and she began to laugh a little. “No. I thought maybe you did because earlier –”

“Oh, absolutely not, Camz. If it were a typical round of footsie I would not have gotten turned on, but you were trying to turn me on. Running your foot all up and down my leg slowly and gently. That was sexual.”

“Lauren, baby, that was not intended to be sexual,” Camila said through laughter.

“Stop laughing at me. I was drinking – you know how riled up I get when I drink. And hey, are you not into the whole fondling under table thing, like when I touched your thigh?”

“Nope. Not when I’m talking with your five-year-old niece who’s right next to us.”

“I didn’t realize you two were talking.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

I rolled my eyes as she glanced me over.

“Kiss my neck,” she said suddenly. “But don’t get too carried away, because then I’ll get carried away, and we might be late.”

Camila was smiling mischievously, which looked so cute on her. I looked down at her thighs, then her neck and lips. I felt my body ache with need and want, pure desire.

“Let’s be late,” I muttered, tossing off my seatbelt to close our distance.

My lips came in contact with her soft skin, and almost immediately I inhaled her sweet, enticing scent. I rested my palm on her stomach, kissing up the side of her neck to her jaw. Camila grasped my inner thigh, squeezing hard but not so hard that it hurt.

“Let’s pull over somewhere.”

Camila giggled, moving her head to avoid my kisses. “We’re almost at my parents’ place.”

Drawing back, I shot her a look of disappointment and huffed out an exasperated sigh. “We’re almost at my parents’ place,” I mimicked.

Camila’s expression went blank all of the sudden, and her shoulders drooped in what seemed like exhaustion. “You just went from absolutely hot to annoying asshole within like, five seconds.”

She pulled into the driveway of a cute bungalow. Once parked, Camila released her grip on the wheel and took one deep breath.

“Are you not nervous?” she asked me.

“I am to be honest, but it’ll be okay… You’re not going to tell them I’m your girlfriend, are you?”

She hesitated a moment. “I don’t know yet.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, all right.”

There was a long silence before I realized Camila was staring at me admiringly.

“What is it, lovely?”

She seemed to snap out of it, and her dreamy gaze had turned into confusion. “What?” she said, so simply.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Oh. No, you just look so cute tonight. Kinda want to eat you up.”

I smiled sheepishly, brushing off her compliments. “Well, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand, get a motel room and stay gone all night.”

“We could maybe do the motel thing, but I prefer we still go see my parents. I mean we are in their yard.”

“Yeah. Right. I get sidetracked so easily when I look at you.” I caressed a finger along her cheek.

Camila looked a bit dismayed.

I think by now she had figured out this whole thing wasn’t appealing to me. It’s not that it wasn’t exactly appealing – it’s just I had lesbian blue balls and now I had to sit through dessert and God knows what in these people’s house.

I casually got out of the car, hurrying over to Camila’s side. She looked too good today to not have the door opened for her. Camila and I made brief eye contact through the car window, and I smiled sweetly, readying to clutch the door handle when suddenly the door thrust outward and hit me in the gut.

“Oof.” I bounced back, wincing at the collision.

“Don’t do anything gay,” Camila warned.

She sashayed off before me and up the driveway.

“We _are_ gay, in case you forgot. We’re a lesbian couple,” I reminded halfheartedly as I scurried to catch up with her.

She made it to the door before I did of course, and I saw it open in front of her to reveal a young girl who appeared to be in her teenage years. I hurried up the steps and planted myself next to Camila, breathing heavily from trying to keep up with her.

“Hi,” I said, taking both of them by surprise. “I’m Lauren, Camila’s friend. I’m her friend. We live together. We’re friends… Sofi, right?”

“Laur, Sofi knows about us.” She gave my arm a playful jab and stared at me endearingly before giving her full attention back to Sofi. “It’s my parents who don’t.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care. As long as you make Mila happy I’m okay with you guy – ”

“Sofi, who are you talking to? Is Mila here?” came an excited disembodied voice.

In that moment Camila’s mom came rushing around the corner and there they were, hugging and squealing happily in the doorway. Then her dad came out of nowhere as well. I was left standing there awkwardly, waiting for them to stop acting as though they’d been apart for years.

I backed away unnoticed, giving them their space. I honestly was surprised by how close-knit they seemed. Camila talked about them every now and then, but she never visited as far as I knew. There had to be some reason for that.

“It’s been forever,” Mrs. Cabello exclaimed, weary with emotion.

“I know right. She never visits us,” Sofi remarked bitingly. She looked to me momentarily with suspicion, like she thought I had something to do with that.

Her parents didn’t seem to notice the out of place loser with bad posture standing only feet away on their porch. Camila glanced back at me, and motioned for me to come closer.

“Mami, papa, this is my friend that I live with. I hope you guys don’t mind that I invited her.”

The expected full body up and down look soon ensued. I gave a half smile, warily shook their hands because I wasn’t sure if this was the situation where you partake in the shaking of hands, and told them it was nice to meet them. They welcomed me of course, and I sensed some curiosity, but I suppose it was normal for them to be curious.

We sat in the living room in front of a tv show and ate strawberry shortcake. I had almost called Camila “babe” now two times, each time letting the first two letters slip out before stopping myself.

I suppose it wasn’t weird having to hide. I’d had many closeted girlfriends.

It’s just that Camila and I lived together, and I was so used to treating her like my girl. It was annoying not being able to touch her, but then again we were at her parents’ place, so touching wasn’t necessary at all.

“So, Lauren, are you religious?”

Spoonful of cake in my mouth, I cut my eye over at Camila’s mother, suddenly a little uneasy. Until now I had gotten by without having to say much because Camila and her family were catching up.

“Um…” I chewed slowly to hide the fact that I was fumbling for the right answer.

 _Fuck it,_ I thought.

“Not really,” I said, giving my head a stiff shake.

Camila began to fidget. Side glancing her way I noticed her lips pursing to form a tight line, and she inhaled deeply, still fidgeting. Maybe I should have lied. I was supposed to be her friend – I didn’t have to impress her parents, did I? But even though I was supposed to be her friend, in all actuality I was her significant other, so maybe the determination to please them should have naturally been there.

 _Aw shit_.

“I was raised Catholic though,” I quickly added.

Mr. and Mrs. Cabello nodded at me with what I believed to be a content smile. From this information they assumed I was brought up well. It was a lie though. Mom believed in God, but wasn’t necessarily a follower. Dad didn’t really care… I still turned out fine, though. I guess.

“That’s good to know. We’re a Catholic family.”

_No shit._

Sofi looked disgusted, almost like she despised the topic of discussion – or maybe the situation. I didn’t blame her, and if I could get away with the expression, it’d be on my face as well.

“I only ask because I wonder what kind of influences Camila is around.”

“Oh, no need to worry. Camila isn’t really easily influenced. She’s nice, and honestly she makes me a better person.” I glanced over at her, smirking slightly. “She’s a very… good girl.”

Camila simply giggled, flipping her hair out of her face so she could look at me. I stared into her eyes and moistened my lips, soon deciding that if we didn’t break gaze soon things would seem a little funny. A second later she punched my arm in a playful manner, but it actually hurt.

It was definitely intentional.

Her father was beaming. “Camila makes you a better person?”

“Definitely.”

“Not surprising. Camila loves to drag the best out of people, and absolutely aggravate them in the process,” he said.

“Papa…” Camila pouted.

“What? You do!”

I gave a chuckle and said, “She does.”

Camila hit me again, and I just grinned, unfazed.

“Camila, why don’t you come to the church anymore?” Mrs. Cabello asked out of completely fucking nowhere.

Camila was caught off guard. She adopted a look of confusion, brows furrowed, mouth ajar momentarily before closing again at a loss for words. It was then that I made the assumption that Camila’s father was much more fun at parties. And the less intense one.

“I’m pretty much always busy,” Camila answered stiffly.

_Busy sinning… with me._

Her mother’s eyes narrowed, and she took on a look of incredulity. “You’re _always_ busy?”

Camila’s nostrils flared exhaled lightly in exasperation, and she just nodded, face blank. I could tell she was trying not to lose her cool, which was surprising. I’d only ever seen her that way less than a few times. Usually with me to be honest.

“Are there any dishes in the sink?” Camila asked, an edge to her voice – yet she still sounded so calm.

My brows furrowed as I glanced over at her funnily. She ignored me, gaze fixed intently on her mom.

“There are,” Mrs. Cabello said absently, now looking at the television. “Would you like to wash them?”

“I would.” Camila immediately stood, then grabbed the empty bowl from my hands.

She proceeded to gather everyone’s bowls in her arms and started on out of the family room. I was confused honestly, but decided not to let it show, because everyone else was acting so calmly, like this weird behavior was normal. So, like everyone else, I sat there in silence with my eyes glued to the TV.

“Lauren.”

I looked back at the sound of Camila’s voice.

“Can you help me?"

Man, if you had seen the fiery look in that woman’s eyes…

“Sure!” I scrambled to my feet, hurriedly following her out and into the kitchen.

Camila dumped the dishes in the sink, heaved out a sigh and turned her back to lean on the counter. I studied her a moment and broke the little distance between us, taking a piece of her hair and tucking it behind her cute little ear.

“You all right?”

Her face was all flushed. She had literally become heated.

“Yeah,” she said. “I just had to get away. She bugs the hell out of me sometimes.”

I smiled wryly. “I understand… You know, you look really attractive when you’re this mad.”

She rolled her eyes and shot me that _don’t even_ glare, but she didn’t stop me from grabbing her waist and burying my face in her neck.

“It’s okay, babe. At least you don’t live here anymore,” I said lowly against her skin. “You don’t have to stay. You get to come home with me.”

I kissed her neck once, tenderly.

Camila huffed. “What’s worse?” she jested.

“Soooo funny.” I began kissing her neck again in retaliation, more fervently this time.

She released a long slow breath. It was no sigh – all pleasure. Her body began to fidget, and she giggled something about how it tickled.

“Someone’s going to come in and see us.”

Drawing back, I massaged my fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck. “I thought that was the thrill of it.”

She hesitated a moment, and then asked me, “Are you still drunk from earlier?”

“No?”

“Well you’re acting really, really, really horny, so I thought –”

“It’s the holiday,” I said casually. “Thanksgiving gets me really hot. I think about all the pilgrims back in the day and stuff – I don’t know, it just does something for me.”

Camila stifled laughter while I simply couldn’t. She grinned through it, her eyes lighting up so beautifully. “You are so stupid.”

Through all the smiling, she kissed me on the lips, a very brief and short kiss, and gazed at me endearingly.

“You look very beautiful today,” I said, mesmerized by her. “I love that skirt on you and how it hugs your figure. And you look so beautiful with your hair down…”

She kissed me again, my face in her hands. “Thank you, baby.” A very long pause. “Mmm, your eyes.”

Camila ended up laughing at how silly she sounded. Honestly, she didn’t need to say anything, and neither did I. It was all in the eyes. As Scarface once said: _the eyes, chico, they never lie._

“We probably need to wash these dishes,” I reminded.

She pouted a little. “Right.”

I reluctantly put some distance between us, and unglued my hands from her body.

“By the way, I’d prefer if you didn’t make references to what you say to me when we’re having sex while talking to my parents.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a very… good girl,” Camila said, mimicking my voice and suggestive tone.

“Whoa, did I really sound that sexual? It was supposed to be like, 50% sexual, 50% serious.”

She laughed. “Yeah, it did. You obviously don’t know how to do that.”

“Well then, I’m sorry,” I said through a cheeky grin.

Camila washed and I rinsed. It was a very easy process that we used at home most of the time. It also got the job done a lot quicker. I was hoping that as a result of what happened earlier between Camila and her mom, she’d want to leave soon.

For the most part, these people seemed nice, but I didn’t enjoy having to be fake around them. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t feeling it at all. Right about now, all I wanted was to go home, kick back and have a drink. There wasn’t one in this place, that’s for sure.

When we finished up with the dishes I stood around examining the kitchen while Camila cleaned off the countertop and tidied everything up. I couldn’t help but notice how intense she was with her cleaning, scrubbing the granite surfaces with such vigor.

Stress cleaning… I had to get her out of here.

Imagine had I let her come alone. I would have been a terrible partner. Why didn’t I think of that? Why didn’t I think of how terrible it made me seem for making a big deal out of going in the first place? Why didn’t I think of a lot of things before I did them?

“So,” Camila said to me through a deep sigh. “We’re going to leave soon.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”

She tossed the paper towel she’d been using into the trashcan and then began sashaying for the door. “Yes. Don’t act like you aren’t excited.”

I jogged to catch up with her, stopping in the doorway of the living room next to her. Camila’s family looked up to us as we caught their attention.

“Are you two about to leave?” Mr. Cabello asked, standing to his feet.

Looking to Camila for an answer as well, I nonchalantly braced myself against the frame of the doorway, shaking my hair away from my face. Camila nodded and hurried over to give her a father a hug. Soon everyone was standing, awaiting their farewell hug.

Mrs. Cabello was last, and after their brief hug, she pulled Camila to the side. Camila gave me a look and then said, “You can go ahead and get in the car if you want.”

“All right.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Lauren,” Mr. Cabello said to me as he showed me the door.

I turned to face him on my way out, extending my hand for a shake. “Pleasure to meet you too, sir. Happy Thanksgiving. Bye Sofi!”

A sense of relief fell over me like a hard rain once I heard that front door close behind me. I let out a sigh, my shoulders dropping, and got in the car. I cranked the car up, got some tunes going, got the air going, and sat there for approximately ten minutes before Camila emerged from the house.

Her mother waved at me from the door, smiling. She watched us hard through the car windows until we were completely out of view and down the road. Camila turned down the radio and clicked on her seatbelt. There was an expression on her face that I couldn’t quite decipher, and the longer we sat in silence the more constricting the air around us became.

“What was that about? With your mom?” I asked.

She finally seemed to exhale, as if she was waiting on me to ask her about it, and then, “You know what she said to me?”

I glanced over, calm and collected, clueless. “No. What?”

“She pulled me aside, looked at me very seriously, and went, ‘you need to come to church… that girl, Lauren, I’m pretty sure she likes you a little more than as a friend. You need to come back and get that released off of you. I hope you haven’t done anything regrettable. If you have, you know what you need to do.’”

“I hope you haven’t done anything regrettable?!” I repeated loudly, slightly amused. “Like what?”

Camila was shaking her head in disbelief, a faint scowl on her face. “Lesbian sex.”

A loud cackle emitted from my mouth before I could stop myself. I pounded the steering wheel hysterically, causing a few honks to go off here and there.

“Lauren, it’s not funny. She was dead serious.”

“So what!”

She still wore that sick to the stomach grimace, her arms folded, head hanging in dismay. I wanted to hug her, but I couldn’t take my hands off the wheel.

“You going to let your mom break us up?” I asked her.

“No! Of course not,” Camila said, agitated.

“Then why do you give a shit what she thinks?”

“Because what if I want to marry you one day?”

I immediately stopped in my tracks and said nothing.

“I’m sorry if hearing that makes you uncomfortable, but it could happen. If not you, then what if some other girl?”

“No. No other girl. Me.”

She smiled a warm smile. “I don’t want it to be any other girl either to be honest, but I also wanted you to be comfortable with the scenario.”

“I am comfortable,” I assured, and blindly reached out to hold her hand. “If we get married one day, then your mom doesn’t have to come to the wedding. She doesn’t have to be happy for us, although it would be nice – but she doesn’t, because we’ll be happy. Our friends will be happy. You will be happy. I’ll make sure of that. Just don’t worry about it. Who knows? She might come around. My dad did.”

Camila sighed hopelessly. “That’s a sweet thing to think about, but I don’t think she will.”

“And if she doesn’t then we’ll continue on with our lives.”

“I guess you’re right.”

I brought the back of her hand up to my lips and kissed it. “I know I am.”

A minute later my phone buzzed with a notification. Camila scooped up my phone from the cup holder and was checking it before I could even say anything.

“It’s a text from Sadie,” Camila said. “She says ‘I left to go crash at a cousin’s place’.”

Another notification.

“This other one says ‘please keep in touch with me?’”

Panic pooled in the pit of my stomach as I hoped and prayed Sadie would leave it at that. There was always light flirting on her part in our messages. She’d say things that close friends could get by with saying without it seeming flirty, but who knows how Camila would take it.

Camila and I exchanged a glance.

“Do you want me to reply back? What do you want me to say?” She sounded like she was becoming impatient.

“Just type ‘okay’ or something, I don’t know…”

Out the corner of my eye I saw her replying back. The phone screen remained lit for longer than it should have, but I didn’t want to look over because I was downtown and the traffic was a bit crazy. Eventually Camila sat my phone back down.

It was quiet again. Camila didn’t have my phone. I could relax –

“I feel like she likes you.”

“What?”

“I feel like she likes you and she’s sticking around waiting to see if she can get you,” Camila said, her tone of voice certain and strong.

I was perplexed, even though I knew there was a high possibility of it being true.

“You make it seem like I’m some kind of object or prize,” I said, incredulous.

She squinted her eyes in reflection a moment. “Technically, yeah, you are… to her, yeah.”

“I’m going to stop at this store right here and get some beer.” I flicked on the turn signal and veered into the parking lot before she could protest.

She merely rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

And that, right there, is one of the many ways I avoided conflict with Camz.


End file.
